Big Red Broken Heart
by Gwendolyn the Kananite
Summary: COMPLETE! (lol finally) A bond between brothers, a life finally given a breath of air, fantasy and nightmare, life and death... (Kane, Undertaker, Raven)
1. Play Wrestling: Part I

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Kane…or Taker…or…Citizen Amber…hahahahahah. She owns herself, I'm sure, or Christian does. Whatever. Anne Rice and Jerky Boys references are made…actually a lot of references are made but all of them are credited so there.

*Dedicated to Amber*

**Big Red Broken Heart**

I don't know exactly how we came to be together the way that we did.

What I do know is that she saved me.

I hated everyone then. And mostly I hated myself. And it was in that worst type of darkness that the  worst few months of the year rolled around. First was Thanksgiving, which isn't as bad as it could be…but still…it's like…I have no other family aside from Mark and Paul...or at least Paul acts like our family. He really isn't though. Paul is hated by us both, so he doesn't count, but Mark and I were on and off, sometimes fighting, sometimes the best of friends, so I had to just hope that we could get along at this time. After Thanksgiving is Christmas, which isn't as bad as it could be because I have a lot of friends in the Federation but it still isn't a great picnic. But then, which is the worst, is Valentine's Day.

To quote Beauty & the Beast: Who could ever learn to love a beast?

But even though I hated it, I still went to McMahon's parties. And I'd been going since before I was a wrestler, with Mark. He'd invite me and I'd having nothing better to do. At Christmas parties everyone just got real drunk. Those weren't all that terrible. In fact, I though they were hilarious. I never drank anything. Me and David (Gangrel), as soon as he started coming, that is, would never drink anything. So we would just every stumbling around like buffoons. I'd only been to three or four of these parties before I met Amber. Those were before I became a wrestler. They had convinced me to. And so the next April after whatever party it had been I debuted.

But back to what I was saying…

My first Valentine's Day as a wrestler was miserable.

I didn't want to go to the party but Mark talked me into it. All I wanted to do was mope and stay in a dark hotel room. But Mark…ha. He came to my hotel room, pounding on the door and talking to me from the hallway for at least half an hour before I finally let him in. Relentless bastard that he is…I only gave in because I was tired of listening to him.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked him. 

He laughed, always trying to lighten the situation. "Please come, Kane. I don't like the thought of you being here all alone. C'mon, man."

I grunted at him. "Why?"

He played with his eyebrow ring and sat down on the foot of the bed. I was sitting at the head, leaning against the wall. I sighed.

"Kane, c'mon. Stop being such a bitch."

I laughed. "Bitch?"

"Yeah. Bitch," he grinned and put on his _I'm mocking my little brother and there's not a damn thing he can do about it _voice. "Hi. I'm Kane and I'd rather sit in a hotel room then get off my fat lazy ass and go to a party!"

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at him, and smacked him in the face with a pillow. He grabbed it from me and threw it across the room before dragging me up and chokeslamming me onto the bed. I thought the fucker was going to break. 

I think that we never grew up. He then climbed onto the bed and sat on my stomach. I couldn't breathe.

"Ahh! Mark get the hell off of me!" I choked. I couldn't push him off at my vulnerable position. All I could manage to do was punch him in the ear. He laughed at me as the punch didn't faze him.

"I ain't gettin' up unless you come with me!"

"Mark get off!"

He laughed. "Not. Unless. You. Come."  

"Godfuckindammit!" I felt my face throbbing. I gasped for breath and pulled at my brother's hair. "Get off now and I _won't_ kill you."

Mark shook his head to himself and went into a great whistling performance of Yankee Doodle Dandy, putting his hand directly onto my face and leaning down on me so that when I tried to protest I really just make so strange sounds and inadvertently spit on his hand. When my saliva touched him he pulled away and looked down at me with mock incredulity. Outraged really. He wiped his hand on my cheek and started singing in the loudest voice that he could and in the highest note that he vocal chords would allow.

"Do you really want -to hurt- me? Do you really want to make me cry-y?"

"Fine fine fine!" I tapped out on the bed and Mark crawled off of me, turning around to lightly slap me on the face a few times. 

"You know what you have to do now," he said with a grin. He lifted his chin, eyes closed with glory, as he waited for my response.

"I'm your bitch," I mumbled, and shoved him so that he fell backwards onto the other bed. We looked at each other and broke out into laughter.

He slapped his thigh. "Boy, you crack me up." He grabbed my mask from the table between the two beds and tossed it to me. I caught it and stood, walking to the bathroom. I started to squeeze black makeup out of the little tube to put around my eyes. As I did this I could hear Mark being The Undertaker, in his deep voice saying: "Brother! You will not turn away from me! The plague of evil things will eat at your rotting soul- and when it is through you will REST IN PEACE!"

I sighed. "Mark you have too much time on your hands," I said to him. I heard him laughing.

His figure appeared in the doorway just as I had slipped my mask on. I picked up a hairbrush and began brushing my hair as he spoke to me.

"You know…GTV should be real. Imagine it- big scary Kane brushing his hair in boxers and his favorite blue t-shirt."

"Pshh," I dropped the brush and looked at him. "What about the Lord of Darkness whistling Yankee Doodle Dandy?"

He slapped me on the back. "Yeahprettyfunny. Just get dressed. And wear an Undertaker shirt. You tapped, man."

"Wow, Mark!" I said, and pushed him out of my way. "Impressive feat: sitting your fuckin' heavy ass on someone so that they can't breathe."

"Hey!" he flashed his cunning smile. "It worked, didn't it?" Besides, I think that it can count as a choke-out don't you?"

"No," I answered him. "It counts as a getthefuck-out-you-ass so that I can get dressed you dumb shit."

He shook his head, a very teacherly and motherly look on his face. "Now, Kane…the name calling isn't necessary." I threw something at him…I think the ice bucket but I'm not sure. I wasn't really looking. He yawned. "Ehh…" he sighed. "I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes."

He walked to the door, turning around for final words before he left. "Don't be late," his voice deepened, "for I will make you my _bitch_." He pronounced "bitch" very finely and said it with total seriousness, to which I rolled my eyes, thinking 'Jesus Christ you need a life…' He slammed the door behind him. I could hear him a few seconds later from down the hall screaming "Rest In Peace!"

Again I rolled my eyes. "Mark, you love your job too much," I muttered to no one in particular as I buttoned my jeans and pulled on an Undertaker shirt, groaning all the while because I didn't want to go to the damn party.

Little did I know, that night would change my life.


	2. Dancing With Giant Valentines

Chapter 2 

The party was being held in the catering hall of a very expensive hotel. Of course, I mean, it was Vince McMahon paying for fuck's sake…

(…I must say now that I curse a lot…by the time you finish my pretty little narrative you'll realize why…I mean, you'd be pretty angry too…believe me…)

Everyone was there, joking around with me about the shirt. At first it was okay, a lot of just overall good times and having fun, but towards the end of the night as the music slowed and consisted of all slow songs I was reminded why I hadn't wanted to come in the first place. Everyone there had a date. Except for me. Even Mark was around dancing with someone. I was miserable.

I was a wallflower.

But then I saw her.

She was standing on the opposite side of the hall, sitting in a chair, knees drawn up under her chin. She seemed a capable person that had no idea what to do, and that made her look like a heart broken teenager. She had dark hair, faded purple, and bright hazel eyes. She was looking at the floor, and looked rather sad. I smiled, though I had a feeling that I would rejected, as I walked over to her, moving through the crowd of slow-dancing wrestlers (funny image, isn't it?) to her. When I reached her I sat down in a chair beside her.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You look so sad."

Her eyes misted over. "My father owns this hotel. My boyfriend loves wrestling…he talked me into bringing him here and then he ran off with someone…" she started to cry. I put my hand on her shoulder. She flinched.

"Don't cry. He's an asshole," I said to her. "It's not your fault."

She looked at me, immeasurably sad for a moment until she broke into laughter. I felt my stomach twisting. "What?" I asked her nervously.

"You're like a giant Valentine with that red mask," she began to laugh hysterically. She wiped away her tears.

"Well maybe I am."

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Amber."

I took her hand and we shook. "I'm Kane."

"Kane…" she breathed. "That's a cool name. Wanna dance, Kane?"

I was smiling under the mask. I thought she wouldn't see it, like no one else ever saw, until she said, "You're smiling, aren't you? I can tell by the way your mask just moved."

"Yeah…I guess I am."

She stood and took both of my hands, dragging me onto the floor where everyone danced. We slow danced, and I kept laughing. I had never seriously danced with a person of normal figure, only jokingly with Mark…which you don't need to know about…haha. But I thought that it was just so funny because of her height. She leaned her head against me…on my chest.

We danced all night, not saying a word, just simply connecting by touch, swaying with each other, little by little pulling closer and closer until I had both my arms wrapped around her and she had hers wrapped around me. And at one point she just gently rested her head on my chest and it never once came up for the rest of the night.

It was after two hours of this that I noticed my brother in the corner of my eye. He was staring at us with a crooked grin on his face. He said something to the DJ. I looked around, noticing that almost everyone was staring at me. I rolled my eyes, stroking Amber's hair. When the next song started I froze, and saw that anyone who hadn't been staring now turned to us.

It was my entrance music.

Over all of it I could hear Mark laughing, and I shot him an evil glare, though I couldn't tell if I was angry or not. Amber looked at me. "Kane, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said, and laughed softly. "Let's get outta here."

Everyone was clapping as we walked away, as she asked me over and over what was going on and why they were clapping. I told her it didn't matter as I ushered her out to my car. "I don't mean to insult you or your dad, but I already have a room somewhere else," I told her, and drove her back to the hotel. When we got there she walked in ahead of m e and sat down on my bed. I changed my shirt in the bathroom, putting on a plain black shirt, favoring it over the Undertaker one.

"So you're a wrestler?" she asked from the main room.

"Yeah…" I answered. "My brother's been wrestling for years. I only started last April."

"Who's your brother?" she asked.

"The guy from my shirt. The Undertaker. His name is Mark. He's like five years older than I am."

I came out of the bathroom to see her on the bed in nothing but her bra and panties. At first I was surprised, and then a great nervousness came over me and swallowed me because I was afraid and didn't know why I had brought her back to my room. I scolded myself for it, thinking, "Jesus, Kane. What did you expect bringing her back here?" I sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You know…I don't have any condoms…" I admitted to her. She rolled her eyes.

"It's Valentine's Day and you don't have any condoms?" she laughed. "Ah. Whatever. I don't like them anyway."

Now, just for the sake of this narrative, I'd had sex before. I wasn't a virgin like everyone seemed to think I was for some reason. But that doesn't really matter right now.

She got up on her knees and came over to me, placing her hands on my mask.

"Are you gonna take this off?" she asked. I started to protest as she reached behind my head and undid one of the clasps.

"Don't…" I said. She stopped.

"Why?"

"My face…" I expected her to know why, like most people do, until I remembered that she wasn't a wrestling fan. I felt tears coming on. "It's all…scarred from when I was a kid…there was this fire…"

She smiled and rolled her eyes again. "Take it easy, big boy. My cousin is the same way. She's burned from a fire also."

I don't think I've ever felt such relief. I undid the mask myself, looking down for a moment, holding my precious mask in my hands. When I looked up at her she burst out laughing.

I felt so broken.

So hurt.

Tears rose again in my eyes and I felt heat in my cheeks. She noticed this and stopped abruptly.

"Oh! Aww Kane don't cry! I'm not laughing at your scars, I swear! See?" she touched my face, no disgust or fear in her eyes or expression at all.

"Then what are you laughing at?" I asked her, the question coming out a lot meaner than I'd intended. 

"You look like a raccoon with that makeup!"

We both laughed and I rubbed it off with the edge of my sleeve. Need I tell you what happened next, other than when I woke the next morning she was in my bed with my arms wrapped around her?


	3. Slightly Overprotective

**Chapter 4**

Finally after the shows were done with I parted ways with Mark for a few days so that I could go see Amber. It felt like the longest plant trip I'd ever taken. I tried to read, tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I was too excited about seeing her.

She met me in the airport, and ran through all the people to jump up and hug me. I picked her up easily, and we stood there in each other's arms for several minutes before I let her go. In her car we drove back to her apartment. In the car she told me about her father, that he'd owned the hotel since she could remember, that he'd run it with her mother until she died. Amber was only a year old when this happened. Her father made ridiculous amounts of money and paid for her apartment as a sixteenth birthday present. She'd been living there since. And she'd started college a few times but never earned a degree in anything because she couldn't stand it. At the time right then she was looking for a real job instead of her part time job. She said that she only worked part time jobs because she didn't need money, that she was spoiled by her father and had all the money she needed, but still wanted the satisfaction of earning it. And because she didn't need it she wasn't motivated to getting serious about job hunting.

We arrived at her apartment about an hour later, and upon opening her door she told me to go in first. I was amazed at the work she must've gone through. All around the apartment were lit candle and flowers…well red, pink, and white roses, really. She led me into the dining room to show a fully made table and dinner ready. And wine. She giggled.

"I asked my father's caterers to make dinner while I was gone to get you and light the candles. Everything else I did on my own."

I laughed and hugged. "You went through a lot."

She pulled away from me and looked up. Her eyes were filling with tears. "Kane, you have no idea how many people I've loved before. I pour out my heart to people and they hug me or whatever and I fall in love with their embraces. And they always leave. Almost everything falls apart on me…but you actually listen. And you don't touch me to help me…you speak back. I actually feel like you love me back…

"My mother died before I knew her. All my life I've watched as my friends grew up the way girls should grow up, and watched as they all went shopping and decided to be girly. I never had a mom to help me pick out clothes or show me how to dress up dolls or braid my hair. And when we were old enough to date I didn't have a mother to tell me what to look out for. I've had to go through hell learning these things on my own, learning from my mistakes by guessing what to do. You know, like in cartoons where you push the wrong button and an anvil falls on you.

"And you, Kane, talking to you seems to be the first thing that I've done right on my own so far. And out of every time I've thought I loved someone, I've never felt this way. Now I know what it really means to love somebody."

By the middle of her speech she'd started to cry. And when she was done she'd begun to smile. We hugged again, and she stood up on her toes to take off my mask, "I don't want you wearing this terrible thing when we're alone together…it scares me." I laughed a bit at that and asked where her bathroom was so that I could wash my eye makeup off, which I did, and came back into the room to see that she'd sat down. And she'd poured the wine.

I sat down with her and she made a toast to us. Her eyes were sparkling in the candlelight as we spoke, of happy things now. Neither of us wanted to talk about bad things, and didn't even have to tell each other that. After we ate, she brought me into her living room, and we sat on a couch, talking for hours. For a while she just told me about herself, the way she'd grown up, stuff like that…but then asked if I would talk. It took me a few moments to think of how I should word the story that I had only told one or two people, but finally I started talking. I told her about my mother and about the firs and about Paul and how even though I'd forgiven Mark we still fought sometimes. Once I had started, the words simply spilled out, and after a little while so did my tears. She came to me and hugged me and told me that it was over and that it was good of me to cry, and then she did something that I hadn't expected. She wiped my tears away with her hands, and placed kisses on my face. No one had ever done that before. Not hands aside from my own had ever touched my face like that…like they weren't disgusted. Well actually I was never not disgusted so I guess that made her the first. Of course, Paul had touched it, to torture me really and tell me what a monster I was, and Mark had when it was still healing to change bandages but he was disgusted as well, and I saw through the veil of that which he'd put up so well. So she was the first. I felt myself smile.

"What?" she asked quietly, perhaps alarmed at my grin.

"No one has ever touched me like that…" I told her. I could hear the defeat in my voice despite the happiness I felt. She noticed this and continued with her soft kisses, more rapidly as she worked her way to my mouth. Subconsciously we took off each other's clothes and again we were making love, in such ecstasy that nothing else was to be noticed. Like that fact that her father was outside, pounding on the door.

She froze and we pulled away from each other, quickly throwing on clothes. I pulled on my mask. She ran her hands through her hair and ran to the door, opening it to see her nonchalant looking father leaning against the doorframe. 

"Hi, Daddy," she said, slightly out of breath. She went up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. He let out on of those rough, manly sighs as he straightened. He cleared his throat and peered into the apartment. He didn't see me though.

"Todd told me that you had some people over here making dinner and that there were roses and candles all over. So what's up?"

"Well I have someone here," she said. She let him into the apartment foyer. I walked into the room and looked down at her father. He was perhaps six feet tall. He looked angry for a moment but then calmed. We shook hands.

"Daddy, this is Kane," she said in a high-pitched, girlish voice. He made some grunting noise and looked back to me.

"What's with the mask?"

Amber answered for me. "He's like Becka, Dad," she said softly. A calm came over him, sympathy really.

"You look familiar," he told me.

"I'm a wrestler. I was in your hotel the other night for Valentine's Day…with Vince McMahon and everybody." He nodded, then smiled.

"Yeah yeah yeah. I saw you two dancing," he sighed. "Well I'm sorry to interrupt you guys. I'll get going." He let himself out and I took my mask off for Amber. She led me into her bedroom and we lay down. We talked again. I asked her about her father.

"He seems slightly overprotective," I said. She laughed.

"It can seem that way, can't it? He's protective of me in an 'it's my little girl' way by he understands that I'm a woman and that it isn't totally unheard of to have sex or anything," she laughed. "He totally spoils me. Ha. I mean, look at me. I'm twenty-five years old and I still live like a teenager. My dad does everything for me."

For the rest of the night we talked, occasionally stopping because we were making out or having sex again. All of it was pure ecstasy. And then, at perhaps five in the morning, as the sky was lightening and the sun was coming up, we fell asleep in each other's arms. 

She fell asleep before I did, and as I looked down at her I thought: "This must be what Heaven is like."

Then I scolded myself for being corny.

But it was true. And I held her in my arms and never wanted to let go.


	4. Feeding the Duckies

Chapter 5 

In the morning when I woke she was gone. I stood and walked out of the bedroom to find her in the kitchen, an apron tied on over her pajamas. She was wearing those big slippers that they make of cartoon character's faces. She had Eeyore. I laughed, not being able to help it, as I saw her. She rolled her eyes and giggled. 

"You like pancakes, right?" she asked. I nodded but didn't look at her. I was too busy staring at her slippers and finding them terribly amusing.

Eeyore had always reminded me of myself, negative, grumpy, depressive. Mark was the same way. He can be the most serious person in the world, and the most intelligent one, and the darkest one, but when he was in the mood he was such a goof. Almost all the two of us ever did on the road was joke around; play wrestling was one of our favorite activities, as well as practical jokes and having races to the airport.

She stepped forward and kicked me. Well really it was like Eeyore hitting me in the knee with his nose. "Would you stop staring at me and go set the table?" I laughed at her again so that she was forced to smack me with a potholder. But then I set the table as she guided me through her kitchen, as I had no idea where anything was.

We spent that whole day out. We went to a park and fed ducks in a pond. And we went to a playground where she asked me to show her how to wrestle in the sandbox. For dinner we went to a French restaurant. Then I bought her ice cream and we went back to the park. It was night then and no one else was there. We went down past the duck pond, which was as far as we'd gone to that day until we reached what she wanted me to see, a garden. We lay there on the grass for hours, looking up at the stars, saying barely anything. There was nothing to say; we could feel coming off of each other what we were feeling.

Later on she got cold, shivering and I pulled her up like a child so that she sat in my lap, arms pulled up around my neck. But then I was cold too and we went back to her apartment. There was a fireplace in the living room, in which I started a fire, and we sat on the couch again, this time warmed by the fire as we talked. Like any other time, I couldn't pry my eyes away from the flames.

"You okay?" Amber asked me. I sighed and played with her purple tinted hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I flexed a few muscles and stretched. She stared in awe at my arms; I could tell that the size of my arms and muscles fascinated her.

"Well what's wrong? You just got totally calm…like sad. Please tell me."

There was a bit of desperation in her last sentence and I felt bad. So I answered her. "It's the flames…fire just always…calms me. It's the memories, they bury me, but the fire is just so calm. It can be so beautiful but it also took everything away from me. And now all I can think of when I see it is warmth, like a blanket that covers me. It's almost like…" I paused, realizing that I'd had this thought for all my life and had never told anyone. Amber touched my arm, gently and silently asking that I go on. "It's as if everything that I lost in that fire, my mother, my…face, my world, are in the flames. Like a ghost risen by the fire. And when I see it, it gives me this security, as if the fire could give it all back to me somehow. But I know it can't, and then it becomes my weapon. You know…at first when it happened, Mark was really nice about it, and he'd come sneak into the basement with me only to be beaten unmercifully by Paul, but after a while he couldn't take it anymore and so ignored me. And I hated him for it. And for a long time all I wanted to do and all I thought about was setting him on fire, just like he'd done to me. But later, after he'd left Paul, and after I was strong enough to leave him also, we met again, and he apologized. And for some reason, I believed him. Maybe because he was telling me the truth. But I didn't hate him any longer. And I wanted to be his friend and his brother just as we'd been before what happened. And then Paul followed us and went to the Federation to say that he wanted a job…it wasn't Mark's fault. But it was ultimately Paul that ruined us again and again. But we try. It's just that fire…like a summery of all evil that's been done unto me. I just wish that I could take it all back. And I know I can't."

She didn't reply and I didn't expect her to. I was used to people not knowing how to be empathetic about me. And the rest of the time I was with her passed all too quickly, and before either of us knew it she was driving me back to the airport in tears because she didn't want me to leave. Over and over she asked if I could get a few days off again but I couldn't for a couple of weeks. And that was why she cried. And when we stood in the terminal until the last second she clung to me, and while I was on the plane, in the night, I could see her through the lit windows of the airport, watching until she could see me no longer.

Without her, the volume in my life was turned down. On the plane her image wouldn't leave my head; her perfume clung to my clothes and I savored it. When I arrived in the airport in Las Vegas Mark waited for me with a big smile on his face.

"You got laid, didn't you?" he asked me. He laughed. Big surprise there.

"Several times, actually."

He stopped laughing and looked at me with a crooked, incredulous grin. "What that…humor? You? Kane? My little brother? Humor? Jesus Kane so tell me what you've been up to. What are you smoking?"

I told him of our adventures in the car on the way to our hotel. He said that he was very proud of me. When we got to the hotel I took a shower and then we went to go work out. Mark said that a bunch of wrestlers were gong to be in casinos all night but I didn't want to go, and neither did he. Mark was brilliant when it came to gambling but he didn't want to go. He said it was a waste of time and that he didn't need money and he didn't need all the guys on him for taking their money. We were working out in a practically empty gym for a few hours until about midnight, when we went out to just get a something light to eat and returned to the hotel.

The next morning was boring. Mark went out to go "tend to some things" while I stayed in.  It's strange…I of all people would call Las Vegas boring. But it was. And I missed Amber. And because of the time zones it wouldn't have been right of me to call her. So I stayed in the hotel all day, first just exploring in boredom, then watching PPV movies for a while. Later in the day Mark came back and we went to go work out for a while, our pre-show ritual. We got pumped up, as we call it, but like always not enough to get exhausted. After that we went to the arena and blah blah blah all the usual stuff. It was then that I called Amber, to say hello and remind her that Raw would be on a little later because of the time zone. No one answered the phone, though. I didn't make much of this, simply figured that she was working or shopping or hanging out with friends. I went back to our room and started getting ready, and warming up. Mark kept looking at me. Strange. And when I asked him what was up he's say: "I'm just really happy for you."

I knew he was lying.

"Whatever, Mark. I'm not up to playing games right now."

That night Mark and I fought again. I was a bit more focused because I remembered the week before, but I was still a little slow. Most of our brawling was fine, but I missed our signal, since we usually worked together so well, for his chairshot and it caught me totally off-guard. And he hit me very hard. I fell down to the mat. All I could see was the rafters, blurring in my dizziness. Mark got out of the ring but I couldn't move. I just needed a second to breathe.

I felt hands on my chest, and thinking it was a medic I was about to shove the person away, but when I saw a flash or purple hair in the corner of me eye I stopped.

"Amber!"

"Kane are you okay?"

I was confused. "Amber, what are you doing? You know this is fake, don't you?"

She put her head down so that no one would see when she said: "Of course I know, just play along." She looked back up with a worried expression, hands on the sides of my face. The crowd was freaking out.

Mark was walking back down the ramp. He took the discarded chair and walked over to Amber. I pretended to be incoherent and unnoticing. He grabbed her by the hair and started pulling her off the mat. She screamed, and tried to slap his hands to make him let go but he wouldn't. I quickly sat up. He shoved her across the ring as I stood to face him. He brought the chair up and had the look in his eyes that told me what I needed to do, and I didn't fuck it up this time as I met it with a big boot. He stumbled backwards and I took the chair to smack him in the head with. He didn't fall, only staggered, and so I did the Tombstone. I turned back to Amber after this was accomplished to see her curled up in the corner, holding her head and selling it wonderfully. I walked over and slid out of the ring, scooping her up in my arms from the outside. I carrying her away as she held onto my neck and burned her face in my chest. My music hit as I walked up the ramp and I listened to the pop I got with a grin.

When I got backstage I put her down and before I could say anything she grabbed my hand and pulled me to a locker room. It reminded me of the way she'd pulled me onto the floor on Valentine's Day. A cameraman followed us and when he got there she told me quickly to act worried and then angry. It was easy. I sat on my knees next to her as she rubbed her head and then I did something which I was more accustomed to. I threw a fit and screamed, throwing things around and then storming out of the room and down the corridor, as the cameraman pointed for me to do, and I saw Mark. We beat up on each other until I had him on the ground and then walked away. When they turned the cameras off I turned one way to see Mark coming toward me and the other way to see Amber. I raised my arms, telling them to stop. "Okay. What _the _hell?"

Amber frowned. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

I nodded. "I am!" I went over to her and gave her a hug that she squirmed out of, giggling and telling me that I was all sweaty, which I was. We both laughed. Mark came from behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to face him. He was smiling, but it was one of his serious smiles.

"I called her this morning," he said. "She's been here all day, with me and then going over things with Vince." She squeezed my hand. Mark went on. "And she came up with this whole script for tonight. Good job improving, Kane."

I tried to be angry with the both but I couldn't. And I laughed before I pushed through them and went back to the room so that I could shower. I was just rinsing when she came in with me, which didn't necessarily bother me. And so we showered…among other things…before getting out to see a monitor turned on, most likely by Mark, to show a "during the break" depiction of my mask lying in a heap of clothes outside the bathroom door and Amber walking in with nothing on. Of course they only showed behind her, above the waist. JR was going on and on about 'Kane's Mystery Woman' while Jerry Lawler screamed about how 'who would want to see that burned freak?' Ah…Jerry. Funny guy. Amber and I both laughed at that.

As we left the arena in a rental car and started driving back, she marveled at all the casinos and lights and whatnot. "Wow…I've never been here before," she kept saying, but she didn't want to gamble. And on the way to the hotel there was only one place where she wanted to stop, and I didn't disagree.

A drive-in wedding place.

I decided to buy her a ring first, though, so we drove around trying to find a decent jeweler that was open…unsuccessfully. 

"Ooh Kane! Let's got one from a pawnshop! All of my life I've had such a proper life when it comes to these things because of money, but not anymore!" And so I brought her to a shop where people pawned jewelry for gambling money. And we found a few decent rings, just plain gold bands with someone else's initials on the inside, but we thought they were amusing and didn't care. We drove back to a wedding chapel.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked her. She nodded frantically and kissed me.

"Of course! Why not?"

"Well…" I spoke my mind. "I know that all of your relationships turn out to be shit, and I don't want this on too also. If we do this, we'll be cemented where we are with each other."

She looked sad, then disappointed. "Yeah…you're right,"-she looked out the window-"I guess we can wait. Besides, I want like a really nice, pretty wedding. What about you?"

"Yeah I guess. I never really thought about it, but that would be nice."

"Don't get me wrong, I don't think we're making a mistake. I really would be honored to be your wife."

"And I would love to be your husband."

"Because Kane," she turned to me and looked straight into my eyes when she said: "I love you."

And my reply was a simple nod and a hug given to her and I said: "I love you, too."


	5. The Witching Hour

**Chapter 6**

We kept the rings as a joke sort of…or as a sentiment, I'm not sure. We each bought little gold chains and made necklaces with them. I went out to buy her a real ring. Mark help me. Ha. Well it was really an engagement ring for her. We agreed to pick out the wedding rings together.

Now, just so you know, we were both Anne Rice fans. So what I'm about to say comes from her book The Witching Hour. It seems the best way to describe what happened. We were on the road, just about a month after we'd met…

'Late that night, he woke up in the big hotel bed alone. He found her sitting in the living room. He realized she'd been crying.

"Rowan, what is it?"

"Nothing, Michael. Nothing that doesn't happen to a woman once a month," she said. She gave a little forced smile, faintly bitter. "It's just that…well you'll probably think I'm insane, but I was hoping I was pregnant."

He took her hand, not knowing whether it was the right thing to kiss her. He too felt the disappointment, but more significant, he felt happy that she had actually wanted to have a child. All this time, he'd been afraid to ask her what her feelings were about such a thing. And his own carelessness had been worrying him. "That would have been great, darling," he said. "Just great."

"You think so? You would have been happy?"

"Absolutely."

"Michael, let's do it then. Let's go on and get married."' (782/83)

That was almost exactly what had happened between us. But our conversation had branched out a different way.

"What would its name be, the baby?" she had asked me.

Our fondness of Anne Rice came up again. "I don't know about a boy," I told her, "but if it's a girl we _are_ naming her Claudia. And that's the bottom line-"

She laughed and finished the line. "Cause Stone Cold said so!" she laughed and I tussled her hair.

"Come back to be," she got up and we did just that, silent for a long time until I threw an idea at her. "Listen, Amber, I think we should lay off the sex until we're married. I don't know if some fate just saved us, but you can't be getting pregnant just yet. Your dad wouldn't like it and Vince wouldn't like it and it wouldn't be good right now. So let's just hold out, okay?"

She moaned. "Kane…that's like two months."

I laughed and kissed her forehead. "Hunger is a great sauce. Remember that."


	6. A Womanly Undertaker

Chapter 3 

"I have to leave," I told her that day. She looked so sad.

"But why, Kane?" she asked.

"It's my job," I told her. She walked over to where I was standing, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning her head against my chest. When I felt a wetness on my shirt I knew that she was crying. I took her again right there. When we were finished we lay there in bed, gazing at each other, and I realized that she and Mark were the only people that I felt comfortable around without a mask.

"When are you going to come back?" she asked me. I sighed.

"I don't know. Right now I'm going to Orlando, then to New Orleans, then across the country to do some shows on the west coast…I think we're doing LA…then I have a few days off, then I go back out to Vegas." She looked sad again. 

"And that would take up all this week?"

"I'm sorry…that's what my job is light," I smiled. "But I could come here on my days off."

Her face brightened. "Would you?"

"Yeah."

She threw her arms around me. "Kane, I've never felt this way about-"

I heard the door open. So did she. We both froze and I remembered angrily that Mark had a key to my room. I rolled out of the bed, covering myself with my mask, conveniently located on the floor where I'd dropped it the night prior. It must've looked funny…seven feet of nothing but skin and muscle with a mask covering my organs from my brother. And this was obviously funny when Mark saw me and burst into hysterics. I'd never seen him laughing so damn hard. It was like when you laugh so hard that you can't even voice it, and it comes out in strange gasps. He doubled over, holding his stomach, leaning against the wall and then falling to his knees. When he looked up at me I saw the tears streaming down his face. He began to howl. I looked at Amber, who'd pulled the blankets up to her chin, eyes wide.

"Amber…this is Mark…" I grunted. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and walked over to the bed, his laughter calming. He reached to her for a handshake.

In a sweet, innocent voice, she said: "Pardon me, Mark, but I don't think it would be appropriate for me to reach my hand out right now."

Mark started up again. That was him, all right, going into those ridiculous fits. He's so easily amused…it's a good thing that he can act. He knows how to keep a straight face when he needs to, like when he's doing promos or wrestling. We loved to wrestle each other, loved to feuds. I was always laughing under my mask, but he could always keep his composure in such situations.

"Do you mind, Mark?" I asked him.

He struggled to catch him breath. "Sorry…sorry…" he stopped laughing and composed himself. "Sorry…I just came up to tell Loverboy over here that we gotta leave in like twenty minutes." He looked from me to Amber and then back to me once before shaking his head to himself and laughing and walking out of the room. Amber climbed out of the bed, tears in her eyes and began to collect our clothes off of the floor, tossing some of them at me while slipping into the others. I put my cloths on as well, and packed quickly before we shared our final kiss and I left. When I looked up from the street I saw that she was still in the room, standing in the window watching me.

On the plane to Orlando I couldn't stop thinking about her. Mark could tell.

"So tell me about her," he said to me.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well first off, how the hell old is she?"

I couldn't answer. I realized I'd never asked her and she never told me. Mark started to laugh again, not too hard though because we were on a plane.

"Damn, boy. She wasn't a hooker, was she?" he looked straight into my eyes as he said this.

"No!" I said defensively. "No. Not at all."

"So how'd you two get hooked up? C'mon, answer me. Stop avoiding the question, you can't pull that on me. We have three hours on this plane together, Bro."

I sighed. "Whatever. She was at the party-"

"How'd she get in?" he interrupted. 

"Jesus would you shut the fuck up and let me finish?" I watched him for a moment before I continued. "Her dad owns the hotel and her boyfriend is a big fan and he's known about the party for a few months now and so he got close to her to use her to get in but then he ran of with someone else."

Mark frowned. "With who? Can't be one of our bitches, could it?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I'm gonna go back there on Friday…I'll ask to meet the fucker and I'll make him sorry."

Again his laughed. "Now Kane…you can't be going around assaulting people. It's illegal, you know."

"Well I'm not gonna hurt him…I'll just…like yell at him or something. That'll work, won't it?"

"Yeah…" Mark's face brightened. "Hey! I had an idea for this feud thing that we could do, but I forgot to tell you."

He was so excited. Life I said, he loved his job. So for the next three hours we spoke of angles. And when the plane landed we went straight to the hotel and then to Vince. We told him of our plans and he approved, and then we went to go lift weights and workout and whatnot for a little bit, not enough to wear us out, before we finally went to the arena for Raw. Everyone was arriving at about five, getting situated about the same time as we were, planning out matched and signing autographs and practicing lines and being interviewed. Some of us were filming promos and stuff…the "earlier today" stuff, but most of us were just chilling out in the cafeteria like we usually did, going of lines and eating peanuts. Of course I didn't eat anything, I never did in pubic due to my mask.

About a half hour before the show I remembered Amber and pulled her phone number out of the pocket of my jeans. I called her from a payphone. When she answered she was crying.

"Hey…it's Kane…" I said to her.

"Kane! Omigod I miss you!" she laughed at her choice of words for a moment before thanking me for calling her.

"What's wrong?" I asked her. She let out a sad sigh.

"It's…John…" I groaned.

"Tell me," I said to her. She started to cry. It sounded so terrible over the phone. So weak.

"He came back to me. He said he was with someone named Sable all night. He told me that it meant nothing and tried to apologize and I told him that I didn't need him and that I had you and he didn't believe me and he yelled at me and called me a liar and then ran out on me and now I'm all alone!" she was sobbing. "Kane I miss you!" she cried. My heart went out with her. I looked down at my watch, realizing that I had to get off the phone. I felt terrible.

"Shit…Amber I have to go get ready for the show…if you turn on USA tonight at nine, in a half hour, you can see it. I'll call you after, okay?"

"Really?" she sounded so much better. "You're gonna be on TV?"

"Every week."

"Yay. Okay. I'll let you go then."

"Bye. I'll call you later."

"I'll see you on TV."

We both hung up and I turned to see a cameraman and about ten people standing behind him, smiled on their faces. I rolled my eyes and mumbled that I had to change into my gear as I pushed through them. Mark was there and he walked alongside to our dressing room. "You do know that they're gonna air that, right?"

I didn't answer him and went into our dressing room, the one we shared. He waited outside while I changed into my costume. He walked in while I was putting on my boots, knowing me all too well and knowing how long it would take.

"You look sexy," he said. I threw a water bottle at him. He caught it and threw it back at me, hitting me in the face. I groaned.

"Knock it off. I'll kill you."

"Ooh. Scary."

Before I could make some response to him he flew at me and his me across the chest with a clothesline. I was sitting on a metal folding chair, so exactly how he hit me with his height I'm not sure. It happened very fast. I tipped over and the chair would up on the other side of the room. I hit my head on one of the little wooden cubby things. "Jesus, Mark." I heard myself say. I sat up, rubbing my head. Mark was sitting on the floor a few feet away. Guess what? He was laughing.

"Sorry," he said, and pushed his hair back. "I didn't mean for you to hit your head. Seriously. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…" I rubbed the back of my head, seeing the in the corner of my eye a rosin bag which I picked up and threw so that it hit him between the eyes…which totally stings if it actually gets into your eyes…

He stopped laughing and screamed, running into the bathroom. I heard the water running over his strings of curses. 

"Dammit Kane…" I could hear him saying. "Now I have to redo my eyeliner."

"You woman…" I grunted. I stood, shaking off the initial hurt from my fall. I walked over to the doorway to see him rubbing furiously at his eyes. When he took his hands away I could see that his face was read around the area.

"Ass," he muttered. He turned off the sink and toweled off his face, being patient and gentle so that it resumed its natural color. I decided to be nice and got his makeup pencil out of his bag and handed it to him. He took it and put it on skillfully. Like a woman…how amusing. 

Someone knocked at the door and stuck their head in. "Taker, you gotta go out there…Kane you too." The person left. This was for the things we'd come up with on the plane. Mark went out first; inviting me for some challenge…then in the middle of his little spiel I came out and attacked him. It was fun. Ha…when is fighting my brother not fun? We beat up on each other for a while until I smacked him in the head with a chair. Then I did my pyro. 

What I noticed, which hadn't been so bluntly obvious before, was that everything seemed to be dull. When Mark punched me in the face I didn't feel it, and then when he hit me with the steps I forgot to put my hand up so he ended up really smacking me in the forehead with them. And later afterwards as I sat backstage talking to Amber I realized that it was because I had been thinking about her. About her laugh, her eyes, everything about her. We had talked for almost an hour after my squabble with Mark and then the match I had later on. When I called her back she was practically hysterical, trying to make sure that I was okay and that my bleeding was under control and all those things. Once I assured her that my being busted open was supposed to happen and that I was fine she calmed and just asked me questions. She asked about Mark and about who everyone was, would she like them or should she like them, were they nice, what were they like in real life, things like that. Then she asked about the hardcore stuff and if it was really safe, and was my head okay for the fifth time. We went back and forth with questions and answers for a while before her tone softened and she said: "I saw Sable."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn't see this but not being able to help it. "Don't worry about her. It isn't your fault that John is an asshole. Sable is a bitch. She's a whore and she's a bitch. Don't fret over it."

She was silent for a long time until she let out a sigh. "I know that it's know…like my fault…but I just feel so terrible. I mean, Kane you just don't know what it feels like to really adore someone and pour your heart out to somebody to have them use you to get to a tramp like that."

I felt very sad all of a sudden. "Actually I do…" except I felt it in a different context. When she was saying that it made me think of the way Mark could be at times.

"Do you?" I couldn't tell by her voice whether she was being angry and sarcastic or not. But there was a bit of relief in her tone.

"Yeah…" I paused. "But I really don't want to talk about it on the phone."

"Okay," she sighed. "I understand that, I suppose."

Mark broke in through the door. He tossed something at me. I caught it and saw that it was a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. "Kane we gotta go, c'mon. We can eat on the plane."

"Amber I have to go. I have to be in New Orleans tomorrow for a house show okay?" I felt happier already that I was going to New Orleans…one of my favorite places to be because of me love of Anne Rice.

"Fine. Call me when you get there."

"Sure." We said our goodbyes and hung up. Mark was shoving things in his duffle back. I laughed at him.

"What are you in such a rush for?"

He tossed a shirt of mine at me. "C'mon, hurry! Steve and Mick and I are having a race to the airport. Loser has to sing the theme to Mighty Mouse tomorrow night." Again I laughed, and for his sake I started to shove my things into my gym bag as rapidly as I could. All the while I laughed, thinking of how funny it was that Mark had such a serious character when in life he was a big goof. And how funny it was that fans thought that he and Steve and I hated each other when in fact we were really great friends. It's funny…when you rival somebody in this company you become better friends than enemies like most would think. And sometimes when you teamed with someone for too long you got tired of each other…but what can you expect but strange when you work here?

Mark practically grabbed and pulled me out of the room, and running through the arena to our rental car. He sped away. At one point I said to him: "You know, Mark, I don't want to die," as he swerved in and out of lanes. And then I realized that for the first time in a long while I had said that and meant it. It made me happy.

In the terminal when we saw Steve, we turned around to see Mick coming to us, taking his time, the loser…and we weren't surprised to see that he'd gone slow on purpose, and wasn't surprised that he looked proud of himself.


	7. The Women's Champion

**Chapter 7**

By May she felt comfortable with the basic training that Mark and I had given her, and so she signed an official contract. She had been appearing on television since the night in Vegas, but May was her first real match. That was when she really started hanging out with the people in the back, getting to really know them instead of just learning their names. She started hanging out with us in the cafeterias and on the planes and on busses and everything else. Even at hotel breakfasts she spent less time with Mark and I and more time mingling with everyone else. I didn't really mind though. I didn't blame her. I was happy for her. She was having a lot of fun.

And then she met Sable.

Sable had the Women's Title at the time.

Like any women fighting, they were completely rude and polite at the same time in their insults, seeming almost sweet. Like for example, Sable said to her, with a smile, "Hmm…John told me that he wasn't leaving much behind. Now I see what he meant." To which Amber laughed and said: "Well if he wasn't leaving much behind I really wonder what you must be."

Their quarrel went back and forth until I came and made an attempt to break them up. Amber smiled as I hugger her, her back to me, and she said to Sable, in an almost yawning way, "Well I don't care. You can have him. I have a real man."

For her first match she wanted a shot at the Women's Title, which Vince told her she could do. I laughed the whole time during the match, watching as she beat up on Sable for real, and winning, which was not supposed to happen. She had my music, and as it played she stood over Sable and did a version of my pyro…kind of cute really. She took some time with her victory dances before coming backstage, glowing with her happiness over her accomplishments. Sable came in later, storming in and glaring.

"Bitch!" she hissed. Amber laughed.

"Not necessarily."

They began to fight again, and again I had to break them up. Mark held Sable back this time as I held Amber. Amber was being aggressive now and trying to squirm away from me, but I wouldn't let her. I pulled her back into the dressing room and let her go. She turned to me and just laughed and laughed.

"What the hell was that?" I began to laugh also. She hugged me. We stood there for a while as she still giggled.

"I'm sorry…I couldn't help it. I wanted the belt."

I couldn't help but to laugh then. "Vince is going to be pissed, you know."

"Pshh," she picked up the belt and admired it. "That's okay. I still have it for now until he makes me give it up."

Mark kicked the door open and walked in, laughing as he hugged Amber. "That's my girl."

They got along great. I loved them both. They made me so happy. They worked together beautifully and I loved watching them talk to each other because of both of their enthusiasm. And Amber loved being attacked my Mark only to be rescued by me. She was a hands-on person when it came to wrestling. It excited her wildly. All she wanted to do was wrestle and run down the ramp to slide into the ring and bounce around on the ropes. When I had a match she wouldn't settle for watching it, either. She had to be at ringside. And she loved my pyros. She loved pyros in general. After about a month with us she was crazed. The Federation had lit a flame in her that had changed her completely and probably wouldn't leave her. She no longer cared about her past and no longer worried about her future. She was having too much fun for that. Her eyes had lost all melancholy shine and were replaced with electricity. And she was totally in love with me, and I was in love with her. It was a perfect coexistence. 

That night in our hotel room, Mark hung out with us for a few hours, eating an informal room service dinner and talking before he left. Our wedding came up.

"I want you to be my best man…obviously," I told Mark. He laughed.

"Yeah…I figured that. Thanks."

Amber was frowning and looked confused and sad. Mark asked her what was wrong, to which she replied, "Kane…I don't want you wearing a mask at the ceremony." Mark and I were both silent. My stomach was turning. She sighed. "Kane, I love you. And _I_ want to marry you. And _I_ am the one who loves you, and have to kiss you, not everyone else. And I'm not going to kiss that damn mask. I hate it, Kane, I really do. And I want to have a real wedding, and" –she had a small grin here- "I want to show our children wedding pictures. Real ones. I don't want them to see the dresses, the suits, the flowers, and then your red obnoxious mask sticking out."

I wanted to argue. I really did, but I couldn't think of what to say. Mark spoke. "She's got a point, Kane. And now that I think of that, too, I really think you should try going without the damn mask. I mean, in all seriousness, that mask is making you a coward. You're hiding. I know you, Kane. You wouldn't hide from anything else. So don't hide from this." He looked so incredibly sad. He always looked sad when he talked about my mask, or about the fire. I think the guilt he felt was greater than anything I've felt. It really wasn't his fault. It was Paul's fault. Ugh.

Mark kept talking. "C'mon, man. It's not like you'd have to wrestle in it or anything. But we're all friends. You owe it to me and Amber and all the guys. We're friends. We're all friends. It's good for you. And they would all be happy," he looked away from me, the sadness still in him. "I'm sure no one would care. Why would they? I mean, if they have a problem, fuck them. We already know each other. We're already friends. If they really give a fuck about how you look, then they're the assholes."

I sighed. "I…" no words came. I saw a little bit of a grin come onto his face. It was because he'd won. And he could tell that the reason I was speechless was because I knew he was right. And because I knew he was right I became somewhat annoyed and felt somewhat played. I could feel the scowl forming on my face. Amber giggled and crawled over and placed a kiss on my face. 

"You're cute when you're mad," she said to me. I give in.

"Okay," my voice sounded very small and weak. Mark gave a little chuckle type thing before stretching.

"I'm gonna go get some sleep. I'll see you two in the morning."

Amber curled up next to me in a ball, lying on the bed with the lights still on. I put my arm around her. She yawned and slung her arm over my waist, pulling in closer to me and curling against me like you'd see a baby animal do to their mother.

"Where are we heading to for tomorrow?" she asked, half yawning. I ran my hand over her hair, loving the feeling of its silkiness.

"Dallas…I think," I told her. I began to think about my mask being off backstage, about how I would go about taking it off for the firs time. I really didn't want to. But If it was for Amber… 

She stirred a little. "What's wrong?" What are you thinking about?" she asked me softly.

"Why?"

"Your heart just started pounding. You're nervous about something, aren't you? Are you okay?"

I sighed, and felt foolish when childish tears filled my eyes, a stubbornness at not wanting to do what I didn't want to. "I was thinking about the whole mask thing."

She lifted her head and looked at me, her hair tangles, one eyes half shut. She was half-asleep. "Kane, honey, is it bothering you that much?"

I felt a great relief with my hope that she would change her mind about the whole thing. "Yes. It bothers me a lot."

She frowned. "Kane, don't think I'm going to baby you. Get over yourself. You don't even look that bad, you just think that you do."

"Amber…" I protested. It sorta came out like a whine…or as much as a whine as I could make with my voice. "You don't understand…when I was little I didn't wear a mask and people laughed, and stared, and pointed, and called me a freak…I just…I don't feel comfortable with this. It doesn't feel right." She sat up and looked straight into my eyes.

"Kane, I'm not going to try and sound empathetic, because I will never feel what that felt like for you. But Mark is right; you can't just hide from it. It's being cowardly to do that. Why can't you come to terms with yourself and your past? Don't you realize that those people were assholes to do that to you? To a child? You have to believe me when I tell you that it isn't your fault. And those people didn't know you. What are you afraid of now? Steve, Mick, Shawn…they all know you. We're all friends. And if something so trivial as a few scares bothers them enough not to like you then, what Mark said, fuck them."

"A few scars?"

She looked at me scoldingly. "Kane…Kane Kane Kane," she smiled and planted a hand on my chest. "Yes a few scars. You take yourself way too seriously. What is so damn terrible about your face? So your cheeks and forehead are a little messed up. Big fuckin' deal. Be a man. Get over it. Jeez Kane."

We were both silent. I was again speechless as I always was when I'd been proven wrong. She pushed up and kissed me, and I kissed her back, before she slipped back down to where she had been sitting before and mumbled something about the light. I turned it off and got comfortable so that we could both sleep.

Like so many other nights we fall asleep, savoring each other's warmth and with warm, subconscious smiles on our faces, uncontrollable because we were both so happy.


	8. Dumber Than a Bag of Hair

**Chapter 8**

Vince wasn't as pissed as we thought he'd be. In fact, he admitted to us how he was happy with Amber having the title because the fans loved her. But he was angry at the fact that Amber had really been beating up Sable. Vince was very lenient, however, because of his fondness of her, so simply asked if there was a reason for her aggression against Sable. Amber sat down with him and told him the story about John and Valentine's Day. Vince asked if it was okay for her that he called John and asked him to do a few tapings. John agreed enthusiastically, not knowing what he was getting himself into. Vince even set up the match for the next PPV.

Sable didn't come to events for a few days. Apparently she had a bruise on her face from Amber's attack and so was giving it some time to lighten. Therefore the whole angle with her and John didn't come about for a couple of weeks. When it did, though, the first thing he did when he arrived at the arena was track down Amber. He came into our room, not knowing that I had been in the bathroom, toweling off from a shower. I put on my attire and gear and whatnot as I listened to them.

"Amber…" he said.

"You sound happy to see me," she said bitterly and sarcastically.

"I am," I heard the shuffling of feet as he walked toward her. He probably was trying to give her a hug. I heard the strange thudding sound of a person shoving another person away.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded of her. He sounded mad.

"Oh don't give me that. You know-"

"Know what?"

"Why I hate you."

"Amber what the hell?" he was walking towards her again. "What happened to you? You've changed."

She let out an angry, huffy sigh. "Yeah well you haven't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a snob and a bastard! You were and you still are!"

"Why am I-"

She screamed at him now. I could visualize her in my head, eyes flaring with that temper of hers. "Because I loved you! I really loved you and you were using me! How many people have you done that to, you sick fuck?"

"Hey! What happened on Valentine's Day wasn't my fault-"

"Wasn't your fault? You used me and my father to get in just to leave me there! And you left with Sable, no less!"

"Well look where it's gotten me!"

"It's gotten you nowhere! So you'll be on Raw a few times. Big deal! It's short-lived; no one will remember you after a month or so. It was your fault what happened that night!"

"Okay. If it's anyone's fault, it's yours, for being a total slut."

"Holy shit. Are you kidding? Me? Slut? You play the whore this time, John."

"What?"

"You and Sable! You're both whores!"

"Hey! Don't you talk about her like that you-"

"Are you fuckin' blind, John? Seriously. The woman has probably slept with every guy in the Western Hemisphere."

I heard him step forward and I heard a slapping sound that must've been him grabbing her wrist. I was fully dressed now. "Let me go, prick," I heard Amber say. She sounded frantic. She must've forgotten that I was there. I threw the door open and stepped into the room. John let her go and froze, literally standing in my shadow, looking like a deer in headlights. Amber stumbled backward and fell into me. She glared at John and so did I. I extended my hand to him.

"I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He was trembling. His mouth moved but he wasn't saying anything. He grabbed my hand and I started shaking it. I laughed softly. "Yes…that's it," I said. "Nice and friendly." I tightened my grip on him suddenly. With his small hands compared to mine it must've been like a vice closing on him. He turned pale and tried to pull away, incapable of doing such a thing as I held him. He cried out, sounding freakishly like a woman as he begged me to let him go and not to hurt him. I laughed at him for that.

What a jackass.

He was 'shaking like a leaf' as they say, when I let him go only for a second before grabbing him again by the throat. I could almost reach my fingers all the way around his neck. I walked forward, pushing him in front of me until he hit the wall. And I lifted him off the ground by his neck.

"Listen," I said to him in a growling voice. "You touch her like that ever again and I'm not going to be so generous. Keep your goddamn hands off her you fuckin' bastard."

In one motion I real released my fingers and pulled my arm away, standing over him as he fell to the floor, coughing, before remembering that I was there and staggering out of the room.

Amber laughed and thanked me. She gave me a hug, our almost over-used ritual of happiness. Mark stepped into the room, an amused grin on his face as his eyebrows were raised, curious of what happened.  
"Was that your Johnny boy?" he asked Amber. She nodded. "That boy was dumber than a bag of hair." She was laughing so hard that she had to wipe tears away from her eyes, and couldn't speak, and so just nodded her head. That got Mark going, her uncontrollable peals made him laugh, too, and so, like many other times in the past, I was stuck between the two laughing buffoons, not necessarily knowing what was so damn funny. I sighed and finished toweling off my hair, leaving it damp so that I could gel it and make it stay for the match we had later that night. 

We were told that in our match we were working to show power, we had to show that John and Sable were the weak ones, and we were more powerful so that we'd prevail. A Good vs. Evil thing. Sable was furious about it. Absolutely fuming. She had glared at me and Amber when we'd come in, looking very feline, eyes narrowed, mouth a little scowl, very and frighteningly pissed off. And her hair, as usual, added to that effect with how it sorta poofed up on the top. Too much hair spray. That's how it was then. Later on during the match she had it tied into a braid but for right then it made her look like an angry cat. And it brought out her eyes. 

They went out first, to an overly negative crowd. Before we came out they showed on the Titantron a clip of John stumbling into Sable's room while she was lacing up her boots. They were really shooting a pre-match thing of her doing that. The thing with John wasn't supposed to happen, but they must've decided that it was a nice touch so left it in. They must've thought it was some theatrical improving or something as he told her about how he was trying to talk to Amber and Kane held him by his neck and threatened him. There was a mixed crowd reaction there, some jeering him while there was a pop for me from the others.

When we came out we had a huge pop. Amber looked wonderful, glitzy in a way, not to mention the added effect of the Women's belt strapped around her waist. When we reached the ring I held the ropes for her, and we did the pyro together. The bell wrung and the match started. Sable and Amber wanted to start. They locked up to have Sable pull away and grab Amber by the hair. Amber struggled for a moment before managing to twist around and execute a snapmare. Sable stood up and turned around, angry looking, probably expecting and wanting Amber to stop and give her a second to breathe, but that dream was shattered when Amber dropkicked her in the chest. Sable fell back, catching herself on the ropes. Amber went towards her but before she could do whatever it was that she was about to do, Sable ducked under her and ran to the other side of the ring. She tagged in John. I was expecting Amber to come tag me in but then she didn't.

She was having a really fun time.

John hesitated for a moment on going at her, looking to me in fear before looking back at her and meeting a clothesline. He obviously wasn't ready to wrestle…that was the point though, that he was weak. She picked him up by his hair and threw him into the turnbuckle, meeting him thereafter with a row of punched to the face. He fell to the floor and she began to kick him in the ribs. When the ref had made her stop she turned to Sable, mouthing some flagrant threat to him that resulted in Sable's attempt to get into the ring, but he held her back. Amber laughed and tried to get the crowd into it by doing a few taunts. John was still down.

She went around and climbed the turnbuckle behind him and sat there waiting for him to stand. I was expecting her to do a flying clothesline, but Amber, full of surprises, waited for him to turn around to execute a perfect hurricanranna. This surprised me. I hadn't known that she knew that move. We hadn't taught it to her. When she pushed herself up she stood over him, laughing, before calmly walking over to me to tag me in.

John looked half conscious, and slowly opened his eyes to look up at me. He let out a scream as he looked up. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him. I could hear Amber laughing as I did a hard chokeslam. I think the ref thought I was done but I wasn't. So instead of pinning him I picked him back up for a Tombstone. After that, while he was motionless on the ground I pinned him In the corner of my eyes I saw Amber getting into the ring to fend off evil Sable…but I got the pin. 

One! Two! Three!

While Sable and John were both down, we did the pyro. And then we got out of the ring and went to the top of the ramp. I did something that I couldn't really help. I bent down, with our height difference I had to do some dramatic sweep type of thing to her. She giggled and asked what I was going. I lifted up the bottom part of my mask and kissed her. The crowd was wild. And as we did that I thought of how, in a way, it was John and Sable who had created this, that it as their free will that had sealed our fate of love.

I couldn't have been happier.

And our kiss remained a fan favorite for years. 

To be continued 


	9. I Like Sandwiches: Part II

**Chapter 9**

As they say: Time flies when you're having fun. 

I never knew how true that was until I met Amber. And it was very true as the next few weeks seemed to pass quickly. 

In our ecstasy the night of  "the kiss", we both (and Mark) forgot about my mask thing. So they made me go through with it the next night at a house show. And they were right when no one cared, when I took it off and they smiled and shook my hand and told me how happy they were that I was doing that. 

Our wedding was at Vince's house on May 10. Ha. I couldn't stop laughing at that. It was really nice though. He had everything set up on his hellahuge estate, in the back. It was a really pretty day; nice and warm. And Vince had tone of flowers ordered. It was perfect. And Amber was ecstatic.

Need I go into all the details? It wasn't unlike any other weddings I suppose…well to me it was but to you, reader, I'm not sure so I think I can just leave it out. Vince also hosted the reception. He was so happy for us. Heh…we're part of one of the few companies where it isn't frowned upon to have relationships with coworkers. Vince even gave us both a few weeks off and offered to pay for a vacation as a honeymoon, but we decided to just use the house that I owned but barely ever used.

Amber was so so so beautiful. And she did something that a lot of girls say they'll do but actually don't. She wore her mother's wedding gown. Most girls don't want to because they take their mothers for granted, but Amber, not having a mother, thought that it was the right thing to do. She wanted to.

"Kane, she never knew that I loved her. This is my way of telling her…or showing her that." When she told me that my heart went out to her. We hugged and I felt sad. She asked me why.

"You know," I explained to her, "as funny as it may sound, if I were you, or actually if I were any woman getting married, I would wear my mother's dress. I loved her and she knew it, but it's like…it's like having her there with you, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" she sighed. "I get so pissed off when I see girls hating their mothers. At least they have mothers…you know?"

I nodded. "And I can't stand when I see parents hating their children…" we both just sort of crumpled up into each other, painful memories running through us both, her of her mother and me of the shit I had to take from Paul. Ugh. We were both shuddering.

We loved each other. It was so simple. And with every second that passed we just had it engraved in our heads more and more that it was fate. We were perfect for each other.

My life for years was nothing but darkness, locked in a systematic vault of tragedy that I couldn't get out of. And Amber, on my most cursed of all days, had been light. She had opened that vault and lifted me out of it. My angel. And she said that I had done the same for her.

And so getting married was good. For both of us.

We went to my house. That day…and night…we were active in ways that we'd held off on for two moths. I don't know what else to tell about other than that. In the morning, she made breakfast again, after making me go out and get the food that never needed to be in my unused house. When I came back I found her watching TV, cartoons really, with a bright, childish smile. She sat in one of my chairs, too small for it, with her legs stick out straight. She looked like a little kid. And again she wore her Eeyore slippers. I looked at her crookedly and laughed as I pulled my mask off. I sat down on the couch beside her, staring at her, the sounds of the television on all the while. We stared at each other calmly. I could feel my heart pounding in a type of worry that I knew I shouldn't've had.

"Amber I have to ask you something…seriously."   
Her smile faded but I could tell that she wasn't unhappy. It was the light in her eyes. And she looked at me, knowing that nothing could ever hurt us as a couple. "What?" she asked.  
"Are you…happy?" I asked her. "Really happy?"  
She frowned a little. "What do you mean?"  
I sighed and took her hands in my own. "I just…I'm having trouble believe that this is all happening. I mean…I've never felt this way. I just can't believe that my life has changed this much in five months. You're just so perfect. I never would've thought that this could ever happen to me. And now I really have to know. Is it just me or are you happy too?"  
Her eyebrows came together and her head tilted to the side. Her mouth curled into a soft, warm little smile. "Yes, Kane. Yes I am."  
We leaned forward and hugged, the most intimate of things we could do. I said things to her as we did this, mumbling as the words just flowing out subconsciously. "Amber when I was little I used to look into mirrors and wish that everything would get better, but nothing ever did, and whenever I realized that it wouldn't happen I would feel ten times worse. And I'd hear my mother's voice in my head, telling me fairy tales and bedtime stories about people that would fall in love and even her talking about he love between her and my father and I'd think about how I would never know how it felt…but now I do. And I have to know it it's real."  
Tears filled her eyes when she pulled away, and looked up at me. "Kane, I love you. I promise you that. I don't know how you don't see it. I mean, seriously. I've fallen in love, found myself an actual job, a husband, a goofy genius of a brother-in-law, and the WWF Women's Title in three months! Kane, what more could I want?"

I laughed and so did she. She turned off the television and we went into my monstrosity of a spacious kitchen as she made pancakes and I set the table and poured orange juice and for maybe the third time ever opened the window shade in the dining room. When she walked in a few minutes late and froze as she looked out the window onto my backyard and into the woods behind the house. And also the so convenient flower bushes below the windows. She almost spilled the syrup on the floor as she stared.

"Oh my God, Kane, this is beautiful," she said. I didn't really know how to respond to that so I just thanked her and we sat down to eat. 

"What do you wanna do today?" I asked her. She sighed.

"Well, no offense, this seems like a kinda hick town…what is there to do at all?"

I laughed. "You're right. That's why I moved here. It's quiet. Secluded."

She laughed. "Jesus. I wouldn't be able to stand that. I like metropolises. I mean. This is a gorgeous place to like spend a weekend or something but I couldn't live here."

Again I found myself laughing. A chuckle almost. "Well I'm on the road all the time. I don't exactly live here."

We talked about possible things to do for a long time until I remembered the chapel. And we walked there. I had only bought the house about a year prior, and one of the time that I have been staying there I walked up this dirt road on the side of a mountain for a workout. Jogged really. The house was in Vermont, in a very small small town with once classroom for each grade and a single school bus, and so the chapel confused me. But it was so cool.

Because it was May it was chilly, and so we each put on sweatshirts and shoes and left. I didn't wear a mask and had my hair tied in a ponytail. She and I walked, my arm around her shoulders, her arm around my waist, and she marveled at everything; at the trees, the animals, the little streams. She was thrilled by its serenity. 

It took about an hour to reach the place. It was on the top of the mountain, almost exact to how it had been when I'd seen it last. When I turned to see her reaction I saw that her jaw had dropped.

"Kane…what is this?" she stepped around, her shoes, making little crunching sounds. "This is so cool."

The chapel…I don't know why it was there. On the top of a mountain, but it was just on of those things that reached in and grabbed your attention, that just made your heart stop. It was made of brick, crumbling yellowed bricks, and a concrete floor with only remnants of wooden floor boards, burned away in parts and rotten in others. But the steeple was there, and a rusted cross, and a stained glass window below it was falling apart as well, with little pieces of colored glass crunching under the feet of whomever might walk there. 

"I'm not really sure what it is," I admitted to her. "I was just taking a walk once when I first moved here and I was flowing the road until I saw the steeple sticking up and I walked through the woods a little and I found it."

"It's amazing…" she stepped over some rubble and came to hug me. "We should've gotten married here."

Perhaps it was more to her than it was to me. But she was truly fascinated. We were there for a few hours until she declared that she was hungry, and so we headed back. I made lunch for us, sandwiches. I had to go grocery shopping first, so she snacked on leftover pancakes while I went out. But when I came back we had enough food to last us years. I set the table for her, and she was obviously tired from the hike so I didn't ask for or let her help. I made sandwiches and set out chips.

"I like sandwiches," she said matter-of-factly. She was very giggly. I laughed. We were just so amused and happy with each other. We probably spent a large fraction of our time just laughing. We were so happy together.

Later in the day she wanted to explore my house, and we went upstairs to where I never needed to go because my bedroom was on the ground floor. Four more unfurnished bedrooms were up there. And one room was just storage; boxes of clothes and things that I didn't need to unpack and was too lazy to go through and throw out. And so I pushed it out of my vision to upstairs where it wouldn't bother me. I really only used the ground floor; there was the kitchen, living room, dining room, and my bedroom, and I had set up my workout equipment in the living room. Amber thought that was hilarious. Why? Eh…I dunno. She was weird like that. And also in her obsession with exploring my house. Because there was nothing up there.

As she dragged me from room to room and through the closets and whatnot, I scolded myself for buying the big house which I didn't need. And so that took up a few hours of our day. Or course by that time, being so madly in love with each other, we made love again, not being able to help it. And that night for dinner we helped each other cook. After dinner we lit a fire in my fireplace, and like so many other times doing this we talked for hours until falling asleep.


	10. Staples: Yeah We've Got That

**Chapter 10**

Sable took her revenge about a week after we came back. I had a match against…a really don't remember. Near the middle of the match, though, I noticed Sable coming up behind Amber. I should've warned her, but there hadn't been time. Sable came up from behind. Amber turned around at the last second to be cracked in the head with a chair. I totally forgot about the match and got out of the ring. Amber had staggered backward and caught herself on the ring apron. I turned away from her for only a moment to go after Sable. She ran backwards away from me. I didn't know what to do, but by instinct turned to Amber. She was looking up at me, eyes wide, mouth open, and had slid back to the steel steps, half sitting on them.

"Amber are you okay?" I asked her. Her mouth opened but she said nothing. She reached for me and I ran over to her as she fell into my arms. "Amber, you okay?" I asked her again. She looked up at me and with a shaking hand pushed a strand of dark hair out of the way to show a little trickle of blood running down the side of her face. She wiped it with her hand, smudging it on her cheek. Meanwhile the ref was counting me out, which I didn't care about because I was supposed to lose that match anyway. I picked her up and carried her to the back, letting her sit down in the floor area behind the curtain. The blood now was coming down into her eyes. She didn't wipe it away, and looked at me with a dazed expression. I put my hands on the sides of her head, behind her ears and moved her so that she would look at me, but her eyes seemed to go right through me.

"Amber? Amber, c'mon talk to me, honey."

She blinked a few times and looked at me, her gaze focusing. She blinked again and rubbed her forehead where there was no blood. Her voice was quiet. "Why aren't you in your match?"

I push a bit of hair out of her face, which was wet and sticking to her skin. "That doesn't matter. Are you all right?"

"I…" she rubbed at one of her eyes. "Yeah I think I'm okay, Kane. I just banged my head pretty hard…" she laughed a bit. "Can I ask you what?" I saw Shane and Vince and a few medics coming over, and then I saw Mark push through them to get to us quicker. Vince looked totally pissed, Shane concerned. Mark looked concerned also, and got to her first, kneeling down beside me.

"Jesus Amber. Are you okay, girl?"

"Yeah…I think I'm fine."

Shane and Vince just stood there, listening to her questions and answers as the medic wiped blood from her face. She said that yes, she knew where she was and what day it was and the president and who she was and how many fingers the guy was holding up, but no, she couldn't remember what happened other than she had hit her head. As they put a simple bandage on her head they brought over a monitor and showed her a replay. Vince left once he was convinced that she was okay so that he could go find Sable. After the medic was done cleaning her up he gave her some ice and gauze to hold against her head and said that she should go to the hospital. Which we did. They gave her staples, eight of them, and ran some test to check for concussions. 

But Amber was strong. And so we left. By then she was fully awake, a bit dizzy but otherwise fine. I was going to go drop her off at the hotel and then go back to the arena to pick up our things, but upon arriving at the hotel I found that Mark had done so for us and was waiting in our room. The expression on his face will never leave my head. He looked worried, forehead creased and eyes soft, and he sprang up from where he sat when we opened the door to help Amber in and help her sit. When she had sat down he became more solemn and just looked very angry, but calmly so. The drugs they'd given her at the hospital had begun to take effect by then, and she was drowsy, and didn't even change her clothes before falling asleep on one of the beds. Mark took off her shoes and threw a blanket over her as I sat beside her, staring at her and holding her hand. Mark sighed.

"Vince is so pissed," he said, and let out a bit of a chuckle. "Says he wants to fire Sable."

"Good," I muttered. "That bitch should be fired. What the hell is her problem, anyway?"

"Who can say? It doesn't matter, really. Vince was already on the edge with her. This just gives him an excuse to do something about her." A distant look filled his eyes as he turned again to Amber. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. This was something I'd seen him do before, when he was feeling things.

Mark saw things, and felt things, premonitions really, and when they were strong enough he could read thoughts. That was why he was a very dark person when he was a child, and one of the reasons that he set the house on fire. He said that it was ripping apart his brain and he couldn't breathe in it anymore. That it was evil. That something terrible would've happened if he hadn't done that. But when he felt these things they came to him all at once, and he needed time to sort them out in his head. I knew this. And I knew that in a moment he would be going into his room to sleep and see if he could sort it all. And even if it came to him and he could sort it out within minutes he said it made him exhausted and he'd sleep anyway.

"Is it sad or happy?" I asked him. He didn't open his eyes right away. And didn't answer right away, either. When he did open his eyes they were firmly set on Amber.

"Oh, it's definitely happy," he laughed and stood up, taking his coat off the dresser with one hand. He grinned at me. "And I already know what it is?"

"Well are you going to tell me?"

"No. Call it a surprise. You'll out soon enough." With that he said goodnight to me and left, laughing to himself. I crawled into bed next to Amber, my dreams strangled by Mark's taunting. 


	11. Decorative Chairs

**Chapter 11**

When I woke up, it was because Amber had rolled out of bed and was running into the bathroom. I could hear her vomiting. I walked in after her. She flushed the toilet as I walked in and turned to look up at me, her body going limp against the bathtub. I knelt down behind her.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so…" she said. Her voice was unintentionally quiet. I looked at the little row of silver staples peeking out through her hair and thought about concussions, ones that I'd suffered before. One of the symptoms was vomiting. 

"Is your head okay?"

Her hand reached up and gingerly touched one of the staples. She winced. "It hurts. And I'm feeling a little dizzy."

I kissed her forehead. "You worry me. C'mon, come to the hospital. I want to make sure you're okay."

"But Kane-" she protested. 

I interrupted her. "It's better safe than sorry, Amber. And I really care about you. So c'mon."

She started pushing herself off the floor as I walked into the other room to get some clothes for her and for myself. I heard her vomiting again and walked into the bathroom. I rubbed her back, feeling pain of seeing her that way. I wished that I were the one in pain. When her heaving had stopped I placed my hands on her shoulders and willed her to stand. "I'm okay, I really am," she kept saying to me.

"But I'm not going to take any chances," was my reply. I pulled on some jeans and a shirt and didn't bother with a mask as I brought her out, in the same rumpled clothes that she'd worn the day before and slept in.

We took the elevator downstairs, and I told her to wait in the front as I got the car for her. I saw Ron in the garage and told him that if we were late to tell Vince that I had brought Amber to the hospital.

When I picked up Amber at the front she laughed and told me that I was too sweet. I brought her to the hospital, into the emergency room where their memories were enough to remember us from the night before. They brought her into an examination room, where they looked at her eyes and did all the same tests that they'd done the night before. I waited patiently as all of this went on, and after about two hours they assured us that nothing was wrong, that the vomiting may have been something that she'd eaten or a strange effect to the drugs they'd given her. So we went back to the hotel. Mark was waiting outside our room, sitting in one of the little decorative chairs that were around little tables that they'd put in hallways. A brown paper bag was in his lap, and he grabbed it and stood. 

Amber looked at him, slightly drowsy.

He smiled. "You guys went through all that trouble for no reason," he said. He handed Amber the bag. "This is the only test you need to take."

As I opened the door to the room she looked down into the bag and then up to Mark with a confused frown. She shrugged and pushed past me into the bathroom. I invited Mark in and started packing our clothes, which the hotel cleaning service had folded and left on the made beds. Mark sat down on one of them and looked at me. He was grinning. I rolled my eyes. 

"Why are you staring at me?" I asked him. He looked away for moment and then back at me, his grin widening into a smile. 

"A few things actually," he pushed a hand through his hair. "Overall I'm just really happy for you."

I heard a scream from the bathroom. She ran into the room, jumping up and down. "Kane, Kane!" she screeched. She threw her arms around me. I saw the little home pregnancy test in her hand. "We're gonna have a baby!"


	12. Wonderful Islanders

**Chapter 12**

In the car as we drove to the next city, all she did was giggle. And I couldn't stop smiling either. Mark sat in the back, humming songs my Metallica until finally he put music on. He stuck in the only CD that he had with him, Pantera: Vulgar Display of Power. He put it in on random. By Demons be Driven came on and he started singing, roaring really. Amber laughed and turned the music down for a moment so that she could speak and be heard.

"I want to name our daughter, Claudia, we know that, but what if it's a boy?"

Mark groaned, picking up on the vampire thing. "You're naming the kid after someone?" he paused and listened to Pantera for a moment. "In that case just name the dude Dimebag."

"Mark we aren't naming her after Claudia, it's just a nice name."

"Yeah but what happens when she grows up and asks about her name? Naming her that takes away her individual identity. If you name the girl Claudia then every time you call her down to dinner or whatever you'll think of a little blonde haired vampire."

I shrugged. "Whatever. It's a pretty name, that's what matters."

Amber turned in her chair to look at him. "But Mark, that may be so in the beginning, but once the kid is like two or three years old they'll have a strong personality of their own and make the name Claudia their own."

"Eh…I suppose," he laughed. "And I bet that whole discussion was pointless because you're gonna have a boy. What would you name him then?"

We, Amber and I that is, turned to each other and grinned. She and I spoke at the same time.

"Armand."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ someone please kill me. You two are obviously drunk. Obviously."

I laughed. We went on to talk about other things, about if Amber still wanted to travel or not, which she did, and we spoke about storylines, whether or not to tell the world that she was pregnant, which would have to be brought up with Vince and the writing crew. After a few hours in the car we pulled onto Long Island, over the Verrazano Bridge. The midday traffic wasn't terrible and we arrived in Uniondale, New York a little later. The Marriott Hotel was right next to the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum. There was a hockey game or something going on when we got there, the Islanders obviously, and the parking lot was more full than I expected it to be, what with the Islander's reputation. We went to the hotel and up to our rooms where we hung out for the rest of the night.

What I was beginning to notice was that I'd been wearing my mask around in public less and less. I'd begun to feel more comfortable and free without constraining myself like that.

Amber and I went up to our room, Mark leaving us to go across the street to the Coliseum Deli to get sandwiches and chips and whatnot. When he came up to the room about twenty minutes later he also had with him a bottle of Pepsi, and we used the hotel's cups and ice to drink it. We each had a sandwich and shared the chips. And it was one of the few times that Mark was in a solemn mood, and the first time that I'd ever seen him like that and not feel the same way. He was staring out the window, absentmindedly sipping his soda and tugging at the bottom of his hair. Amber asked if he was okay.

He slowly turned his head to her, his eyes seemingly unloving. His gaze set on her for a moment until he looked at me. "I was thinking about Paul…" he said. 

I looked away, staring at the floor. Amber sighed. "You know, I'm not going to sit her all happy while both of you are all sad! I won't!" Mark and I both lifted our heads just slightly enough for our eyes to meet. She stood between us. "Be happeeee! Kane and I are having a baby, what isn't there to be happy about?"

Mark sighed. "Ahh…nothing. I'm sorry. I'm very happy for you."

"You should be happy for yourself," she said to him. "You'll have a little niece running around."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'll spoil the little tike," he paused, and grinned at her. "How do you know it won't be my nephew?"

Her beautiful, serene smile came on again. She looked down at her stomach and put her hand there. "Well, Mark…" she laughed lightly, "you aren't the only person who can sense things. I couldn't tell before, but I can now. I know that this baby will be a girl. My little Claudia. Our Claudia."

Mark nodded his head and sported a sarcastic looking smile. "So I guess you won't worry about Damien or Amadeo or Lestat, now will you?"

"I guess not," I answered him. He stretched and yawned.

"Well that girl is going to be a wrasslin' baby, I'll tell you that much. Are you gonna bring her on the road?"

Amber placed a hand on my arm and sat down next to me on the bed. "Well until she starts school. Then I'll settle down with her and we can live like normal people," she rubbed my arm and leaned her head against me. "And Kane is staying with us whether he likes it or not. Because I don't know how I'd live without him."

"Well of course I'll stay with you," I answered her. "I mean…we don't even have to work if we don't want to because we have so much damn money."

Mark yawned again and looked over at a little digital clock. "Ooh! Look at the time! I must be going now. It's past my bedtime." He stood and grabbed a handful of chips as he walked out the door. I cleaned up all the wax paper and bags and all that stuff as Amber stared up at me from where she sat. Then she stood and changed into pajama pants. I noticed how muscles were beginning to shape in her upper arms. And also in her abs. But those wouldn't matter for a while because soon that whole section of her body would be round. She laughed. 

"What are you gawking at?" 

I shook my head to myself. "Sorry. I was just spacing out. You're just so beautiful."

To that she giggled and crawled into bed, decked out in one of my shirts which was ridiculously big on her. She sat up, blankets at her waist, and kept staring at me as I finished cleaning up and ten took off my jeans and shirt, leaving me in just boxers. I sat down on the foot of the bed and put my hand on her knee. 

"Do you think you'll be sick again?" I asked her softly.

She shrugged, eyes starting to fall shut. She was tired. "I don't know."

"Well if you are and you need anything just wake me up, alright?" she nodded and I stood to go turn off the light. I got into bed next to her and I put my arms around her in the darkness. She put her hands over mind and moved them down to her stomach.

"Kane, we're going to have a baby. A baby, Kane."

"Yes. Claudia. Our daughter."

"What do you think she'll look like?"

I pulled her closer to me. "She'll probably have hazel eyes…reddish brown hair…" I laughed a bit. "She'll look nothing like Claudia, that's for sure. But it's still a great name. That's why we're naming her that."

"We should just name her Claudette or something in that case. Or else Mark is gonna be on us about it every waking moment. Ha."

"Heh…she'll probably be one of those kids that will always be called by a nickname or her middle name anyway."

"What should her middle name be?"

I sighed. "Well I think it should be something relevant to her, so we should wait until she's born. She may not develop as a person for a few years, but she'll still have character even before she's born."

"True."

Nothing else was said as we lay there. She fell asleep after a while and so did I, holding each other and holding our daughter.


	13. Christmas Time Yipee!

**Chapter 13**

Amber had morning sickness for about a month. My heart was with her. Vince begged us to take time off to rest but she refused, and so I refused with her. In the Coliseum we had a big thing where Mark wanted to reconcile and then asked Amber to represent us and to wrestle but she refused to wrestle, saying in a loud, attention grabbing voice, "I can't. I'm pregnant!" so that her voice echoed and everyone went into a bit of shock. Then we got a huge pop. So for a while Kane and the Undertaker were allies. It was fun. But we only lasted for about a month before splitting up again. Amber made appearances backstage almost every night but didn't come to ringside anymore and obviously didn't wrestle. By this time, Sable had been fired, John forgotten, and so she had no reason to be on camera because she had no rivals, but after a few months she stopped being on camera because she didn't like the way she'd begun to take shape. Her face was always had a bit of a blush to it and her breasts had gotten bigger, and she didn't like how she looked.

Some of the other wrestlers bought her clothes, things that they could find and thought she would like that could fit her. And her father paid for nursery furnishings in both my house and her apartment. Everybody, from fans to wrestlers to Amber's father were all very supportive. And Vince wasn't angry with her. It was a great time for us.

December was her seventh month, and it held out first Christmas together. It was then that she decided to take off from the Federation. And I did too. For storylines, we made it so that Mark sacrificed her and she walked off somewhere after setting me on fire. Corny, yes, but it seemed to work. And we went to my house in Vermont, where there was already a few feet of snow, and where it was almost always snowing in winter.

Neither of us were religious, so our Christmas was an American Christmas, not a Christian one. We bought each other presents and we made a tree and had a nice dinner but there was no religious value. Nonetheless, it was perfect. Christmas is a magical time for couples. And because we had stayed at Mark's house at Thanksgiving, he came to my house for a couple of days at Christmas until he had to go back to work. He and I went out on Christmas Eve and cut down a tree from the woods while Amber was in the house, cooking dinner. We worked together awesomely. No objections were ever made about the contribution that went into our living as a whole. The only objections we ever had was to Amber being as active as she wanted to be when her pregnancy was keeping her from doing so. 

On Christmas day in the morning we opened presents, like little children in a way that I could only remember doing twice and had knowledge of only from television. Mark bought her a whole mess of things. He bought her a silver ring with her name engraved on the inside. The ring was thick, a dragon that wrapped around her finger with some red jewels as eyes.

The same red jewel appeared again in the eyes of another dragon, which hung from a necklace. The necklace was heavy, with a strong chain. It was silver, the dragon wrapped around a sword. And her initials, AC, were carved into the blade of the little weapon. When she was ecstatic with these things, I though she'd die when she realized that she still had three more presents from him. Mark had bought her a dagger, a bow gun, and a sword, all with the same jewels and dragon theme. On the sword, the hands where it met the blade was a dragon's head, so that the metal came out of its mouth. And "Amber Callaway" was engraved in a Gothic looking font on the blade.

And Mark bought me a motorcycle, which I laughed at. He said, "Now we can ride together…ha." He'd had a custom one made for me but it was still at the place where he'd bought it because he didn't want to bring it up in the snow. He had a picture of it, though. It was jet black, with flames on it that were not colored normally but with just dark red and gray.

It's funny…when you're a person with so much money that you can buy your own gifts, you have to always make sure that when you buy another person that same status (for example my brother) a gift, you have to make sure that it's something that they'll like. And something that comes from your heart. That was why almost everything we gave each other was custom made, so that the receiver of this gift wouldn't have it already. And so for Mark I had bought a dagger, custom made of course, which had a double sided blade and the handle was his symbol, with the blade being the part that came down in the center. The blade was steel or something…I dunno. Whatever blades are usually made of. And the symbol part was purple marble. When he opened it, he held it in his hands, the fifteen-inch long weapon lying across his open palms. For a long time he just stared at it with no expression. When Amber laughed he looked up at me, eyes piercing.

"Kane this is so cool," he put his hand around the handle and with the other grabbed his wrist and raised both arms over his head. He rolled back his eyes and then brought his arms back down.  

"You could use that on shows," Amber said. "You could go totally evil and like sacrifice people," she wigged her eyebrows. "Fun stuff."

Amber picked up a wrapped present and tossed it to him. He caught it and pilled the paper and ribbon off with one hand. He pulled the top off and dug through the packing confetti stuff, throwing it on the ground and pulling out the gift. It was a metal chalice, with purple jewels in the handle and little emblems of his symbol on the cup. Around the base of the cup it said "The Undertaker."

"Just for you," she said, grinning. He stood and walked over to her, bending down to give her a hug. He walked to me and did the same.

"You guys are the best," he wiped mock tears away from his eyes. 

Then, Amber and I turned to each other and exchanged gifts. I opened mine first. 

I opened the little box and looked down to see a picture of Amber staring back up at me. "That's egotistical," I said to her jokingly. But in truth, I loved it. It was black and white photo; the only color a vine of roses in the bottom left and top right corners and the color in her eyes. And she looked solemn, with the slightest bit of a smile. Beautiful. I smiled as I looked down at it. Tears rose in my eyes. It's a funny thing, love. It can twist your heart. And this picture of her staring at me preserved forever on a surface the way I saw her. I looked back up at her and gestured for her to open her present. She pulled the paper off easily. It was like a big square of paper, obviously a big framed picture. When she saw what it was she gasped.

"Oh my god…" she whispered. She looked up at me, both of us with tears in our eyes. "Kane how did you get this?"

"Your father."

She stood, tears in her eyes still, and walked over to me, hugging me. Mark laughed a little.

"Who is that?" he asked. She turned around and looked at him.

"It's my mother."

Later that night after we'd eaten dinner and Mark had gone to bed, we lay in our own bed, staring silently at each other. She couldn't yet decide where to put the portrait of her mother and so just leaned it against the wall in our room. She kept looking from me to the picture and then back to me. She was smiling so much that…well I don't know but she was smiling a lot. 

"You have no I idea how much this means to me. I love this so much Kane. It's like-"

I gently put my finger against her lips and made her stop talking. "Shh," I said softly. "Amber, I'm happy. And I know that you are, too. Let's not talk about sad things of the past anymore, okay?"

She nodded and kissed me. "All right, Kane, if that's what you want."

_To be continued_


	14. Terryfying: Part III

**Chapter 14**

February 13, 1999. Daylight. We were at Amber's now, in Indianapolis. A normal afternoon was proceeding as Amber was in our bedroom, reading something most likely. And I was in the living room, watching a movie. I had grown tired of flipping through channels so I was watching a tape. The Silence of the Lambs. Great movie. I'd always likes that one.

Just as he was saying: "Plum Island Animal Disease Research Center…sounds charming," she walked into the room, cradling little unborn Claudette on her forearm. She looked tired, exhausted and almost angry.

"Kane why do you have to watch that damn movie? Haven't you seen it enough times?" She sounded a bit moany, whining against her own will. I tried not to laugh, knowing that she didn't mean it and was just feeling strange because of the pregnancy.

"No, I haven't," I said to her calmly. "Would you like to join me, cherié?" she looked for a moment like she would cry as she looked to me and then down the hall towards her bedroom as if she couldn't bear to make a decision and even the simplest of things were tearing her apart. I pitied her then and walked over to her, hugging her in the only bit of comfort that I could think to give her. She collapsed onto me for the most part and cried softly. I was alarmed at that. "What's wrong?"

She wiped her eyes groggily. "I feel so gross, Kane. Like I just don't know what to do or where to sit down and…" she whined now, "…my hair, it's all in my way and-"

"Shh…" I rubbed her back and ran my hands over her hair. I brought her into our bedroom, secretly wanting not to be there but still watching my movie, which I could still hear. At that though I almost laughed at myself, but held it back for fear of upsetting her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, most likely against her own will. "Kane I'm tired," she mumbled. I bent down and kissed to top of her head before leaving her to stand there for a moment so that I could make our bed. Within a minute or two at most it was done, and I led her to it and helped her get in under the blankets. A smile came over her that made her look stoned. "So comfy…" she whispered. She pilled the blankets up to her chin and moaned, and then closed her eyes. Within about thirty seconds she was asleep.

I walked out of the room quietly, not meaning to disturb her as I went back to my movie. In the living room I stood staring at the television for a moment, my conscience coming in to play. I wanted to watch it, yes, but I knew that the right thing to do would be to go stay with Amber. I groaned as I pushed the stop button and then turned off the TV and made my way back to her. 

Amber had a way of looking supremely innocent when she slept. Very angelic. Of course that beauty didn't cease to exist while she was awake but when she slept she looked like an angel, like right then. She was pale, but cheeks full and pink, and eyes closed with her eyelashes looking very dark and defining to her eyes. Her hair lay around her face, dark and healthy and clean looking.

When I saw this I forgot all about Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling and wanted nothing more than to be with her. My angel.

It was four thirty in the afternoon…I didn't want to take a nap with her. And so instead I pulled up a chair beside the bed and simply gazed at her. My angel. After a few moments I decided that the silence was simply maddening and so I walked over to the stereo, which held her Third Eye Blind CD. Lately heavy metal had been giving her a headache and she'd resolved to more mellow things. I put the disc on random, as I hate listening to songs in order. Track twelve came on first. The Background. I had heard the song once or twice but never really cared to pay attention. But now I listened to the lyrics carefully.

"Everything is quiet

Since you're not around

And I live in numbness now

In the background."

It reminded me of my mother.

"I do the things we did before.

I walked Haight Street to the store

And they say 'Where's that crazy girl

You don't get drunk on red wine

And fight no more.'

I don't see you anymore

Since the hospital

The plans I made still have you in them

Cause you come swimming into view

And I'm hanging on your words

Like I always used to do

The words they use so lightly

I only feel for you

I only know because I

Carry you around

In the background."

I wondered what the song was about. It didn't matter really but I always thought of things like that because then it would be easier to relate to the musician. Relating to song lyrics was easy. It wasn't the same. That's the beauty with songs. They are meant in the way that you interpret them. A singer can sing about his forever gone girlfriend and a listener can relate it to their forever gone mother.

"Words they come and memories all repeat

I lift your head while they change the hospital sheets

And I would never lie to you no

I would never lie to you no

I felt you long after we were through

We were through

The plans I make still have you in them 

Cause you come swimming into view…"

I couldn't pry my eyes away from Amber as I heard the song. It was so damn sad. My eyes drifted to the round shape of her womb, our Claudette. Any day now…

Many things were going through my head at that time. Not worries, really, in fact I was very confident that everything would be fine; that Claudette would be fine and Amber would be fine and that we would have a pretty and a healthy daughter. I had no doubt that all that stuff would work out and no harm would arise. But what I wondered about was more along the lines of her being my _daughter_ and what that would feel like and what all her years could turn out to be. The strange thing was that I could visualize nothing because I had not the slightest clue what to expect. I thought of things that I knew would happen though…her first words, first steps…then later on her first day of school or her first boyfriend and her first job and her driver's license and her wedding and even her children so that the cycle would start again. The rest of my life would be defined by Claudette, each year that passed would be her growing up while Amber and I raised her. And this gave me concrete plans for the rest of my life. It was that simple.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. Amber slept still as the next song came on. Good For You. Ah, yes, I knew this song by name. I liked it. Definitely I liked it. One of my favorites.

"Hey, will you stay awhile?

My smile will not mislead you

Cause I've been alone

My faith turned to stone

Still there's something in you

That I believe in

Close to the pierce

I go wild and fierce

Still I let you be

I feel you next to me

Cause inside I feel

A wind that starts to blow

I'm taken in your undertow

Everything is fine…

But I'm lonely all the time

"All I wanna do is be there

For the things that you're going through

Is it good for you?

Is it good for you?

Cause you haunt the nights when I don't know

Where my life should go

Is it good for you?

Is it good for you?

"Hey child, please stay awhile

My smile will not mislead you

And roll me out 

I go wild with doubt

I grab at you

I can't stop grabbing at you

Cause I feel you cross my mind

In disarray 

Intoxicated ricochet

There's nothing wrong 

Just don't take too long."

Again I wondered from where the lyrics had sprung. It was a song that I wouldn't totally relate to. But it reminded me of myself…old me, from a year earlier. I may have thought that about a woman who'd refused me or a friend that was ignoring me. But right then it meant nothing to me, though it still remained a favorite of mine.

As all the songs played and I could try to think of what they meant there were a few that I heard that, honestly, almost made me cry. They reminded me of my love for Amber and how we had countless years together, about how the rest of our lives would be defined with each other and Claudette. That thought in itself made tears come on.

A year earlier I hated myself. I hated the world and everyone in it and each time I woke in the morning I would think, "Oh great. I've survived even longer." But since then, and especially since we'd been married, when I would wake up to see her I would think: "Yaaaaay!! It's Amber! And Claudette! Another day of fun!!"

It amazed me that my life could make such a significant change in a year. But it was good. Because if I had stayed like that for much longer I would've really wasted my life. And I wouldn't have given anything for the time I had with Amber. That was why I felt we were fated to be together. 

And the song Motorcycle Drive by really showed me that when it came on.

"Summer time and the wind is blowing

Outside in lower Chelsea

And I don't know

What I'm doing in this city

The sun is always in my eyes

It crashes through the window

And I'm sleeping on the couch

When I came to visit you

That's when I knew

That I could never have you

I knew that before you did

Still I'm the one who's stupid

And there's this burning

Like there's always been

I've never been so alone

And I've never been so alive.

"Visions of you on a motorcycle drive by 

Cigarette ash flies into your eyes 

And you don't mind

And you smile

And say the world doesn't fit with you

I don't believe you

You're so serene

Careening through the universe

Your axis on a tilt

Guiltless and free

I hope you take a piece of me with you

And there's things I'd like to do

That you don't believe in

I would like to build something

But you'd never see it happen

And there's this burning 

Like there's always been

I've never been so alone

And I've never been so alive

"Where's the soul

I want to know

New York City's evil

The surface is everything

But I could never do that

Someone would see through that

And this is the last time

We'll be friends again

I'll get over you and you'll wonder

Who I am

And there is this burning

Like there's always been

I've never been so alone

Alone

And I've 

And I've

I've never been so alive

So alive…

"I go home to the coast

It starts to rain

I paddle out on the water

Alone

Taste the salt and taste the pain

I'm not thinking of you again

Summer dies and swells rise

The sun goes down in my eyes

See this rolling wave

Darkly coming to take me

Home

And I've…never been so alone

And I've…never been so alive."

I wanted to cry as I listened to that, just break down and cry, for all the things that I feared and all the things that I could remember happening to me. But then I smiled. It wasn't possible, was it? That anything could happen to us? Of course not. I was being silly. And paranoid. 

It was dark out now, which I had been ignoring, but after I'd lost my long reflective train of thought it began to bother me. I turned on the light that stood on Amber's vanity table. It was dim, romantic seeming or something, so wasn't bright enough to wake her up.

My stomach growled…I was hungry, and I knew that she would be too soon. I walked into the kitchen, deciding to make soup, which she'd been craving over the past month or so. I put it on the stove and went into the living room and turned The Silence of the Lambs back on to see Chilton with his headphones. I laughed a little upon hearing Anthony Hopkins saying "Terry-fying". Ha. That was the best part of the movie. I stood in the doorway of the dining room, so that I could watch the movie and also step back a foot when I needed to in order to see the progress of the soup. And also through the hall to the bedroom door where I could see Amber sleeping. 

Just as the soup was ready and I was going to walk over to her and wake her up, she sat up by herself, fully awake before I reached her. 

When I saw the alarm on her face I asked her, "What's wrong?" but then she just kinda smiled, as if she knew she should be happy but was still alarmed nonetheless. "Amber, what is it?" I asked her again.

"My water just broke…"


	15. I Want a Duck

**Chapter 15**

I brought her to the hospital…obviously…where they brought her into the room where they went about delivering babies or whatever and got her all situated. They told me to put on one of those doctor aprons and tie my hair back and wear a face thing…hahahaha…I'm great with medical terminology. 

She was having contractions for what seemed like forever. I held her hand and talked to her as she went through random fits of either screaming at me or being calm and laughing and saying how happy she was. Finally she like…had the baby or whatever you want to say. It was kinda…weird. Well that just goes to show you how much of a guy I am…but then anyway we heard crying and the doctor telling us that we had a daughter. It happened very fast. He let me cut the umbilical cord and let me hold her for just a moment before taking her away to have her checked out and cleaned up and everything and then brought Amber to a separate room and gave her some drugs because they said she'd be in a lot of pain and they gave her a sedative…which I was sure she didn't need. She was tired anyway. Who wouldn't be? She'd been in labor for almost ten hours.

I sat in a chair next to her bed and talked to her for a little while. She was being incoherent and mumbling about flying duckies so I just nodded my head or whatever it took to show her that I was listening. Then, right before she fell asleep, said something clearly. She said:

"Kane…I really want a pet duck."

And so I held her hand and promised that I'd buy a duck for her. And then she said: "Kane, look. It's after midnight. It's Valentine's Day…we met a year ago. And today is our daughter's birthday."

I smiled when she said that. "Happy Valentine's Day, honey…" I said to her. But she had fallen asleep.

I stood up and paced back and forth in the room. I looked out the window. It was raining. I liked the rain.

"Oh shit," I muttered, remembering something. I walked out of the room to a pay phone. There were no quarters so I called Collect and saved a buck or two as they say. Heh. I dialed Amber's father.

…ring ring…

"Who the hell is calling me this early?"

I laughed. "That's a nice way to answer the phone, Mike."

"Oh…hey Kane…" I heard him yawning. I laughed again.

"What if that was someone business-wise that wanted to talk to you?"

"Eh…I own the hotel. They know not to call me this early. I'm silly like that. So wait…why are you calling, again?"

"It's Amber-"

"What's wrong?" When I heard the urgency in his voice I felt bad.

"Mike, Mike, calm down. We're at the hospital. She just fell asleep. She gave birth to your granddaughter."

He laughed, sounding relieved and happy. "Oh Jesus that's great!" he laughed more. "Oh god I'm not old enough to have grandchildren." He paused. "Should I come by there?"

"Nah, wait till tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know. Okay?"

"Yeah…thanks Kane."

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I dialed again. Mark this time. He answered his phone a bit differently.

"So did you think of a middle name yet?" he answered.

"No…so I guess I don't have to tell you," I had called his cell phone, knowing that he would've have been home. "So when can you come visit?"

Mark sighed. "I dunno…we're in Dallas tomorrow, and then…um I don't remember. Gimme a few days, okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"Well then get back to your woman. Tell her I said hi. Bye."

"Bye."

And then we hung up. Amber was still sleeping, I knew, and I was hungry, so instead of returning to her right away I took the elevator down to the ground floor to get coffee. The cafeteria was open all day, and so in there I bought a cookie and some coffee. I ate the cookie there before I made my way back upstairs. Or course she was still sleeping. Angelic looking again. I sat down in my chair again and just looked on, remembering her reminder. A year earlier I would've been sitting in a dark hotel room, at that time of night probably absent-mindedly watching infomercials or late night talk show reruns. On a special occasion I may have ordered a movie on PPV. I may have gotten a little bit of sleep before either boarding another plane or getting up to work out. All I ever wanted to do when I was depressed was lift weights. Heh…that's why I have so much muscle. But when I was in Vermont I would jog also. Fun stuff.

But what did that mean anymore? I'd met Amber and everything had changed for me.

I looked to her again. She slept, on the side, arms over her stomach. I never would've thought when I had been at that party that the sad girl would actually dance with me. Furthermore I would never have expected that a year later to the day we would have a daughter.

I sighed, thinking of things we'd have to do over the next few days. I would have to call Vince, tell him to give her another month or so to get back in shape and let Claudette get used to being human. I'd have to go to the apartment and monitor all the stuff that I knew was going to be sent. And I had to go find someplace where I could find a duck for Amber.

Get used to being human…I laughed at loud. _I had a daughter_. It was so hard to believe it. I couldn't make it seem right in my head. But it felt right in my heart.

Suddenly all I wanted to do was hold her and kiss her and cuddle with her. I wondered if I was able to do such a thing. I made my way out down the hall to the nurse's station. Everything was calm and quiet. And I can specifically remember the floor being really shiny. 

One of the nurses looked up as I approached. I recognized her from when Amber had been in labor. And she seemed to remember me, too (who wouldn't remember a long haired seven foot man with burn scars?). "What do you need, Mr. Callaway?" she asked.

Because of my height I was able to lean down on my elbows on the tall counter of the desk. "I was wondering if I could like…hold my daughter, even though it's really early."

She laughed, I suppose at the way I asked her. "Yeah, I guess. C'mon." She brought me down to the end of the hall where they had the big window and all the little babies in there in cribs set up like a baby city. I watched as she unlocked the door and went to one of the cribs and picked up the baby and brought her back out into the corridor. "Support her head," she said softly, and went up on her toes to put Claudette in my arms as gently as she could. I must've looked so silly with such a small child.

"Can I bring her back to the room?" I asked her. She nodded and I walked slowly and smoothly, to not disturb her, back to Amber's room. My eye caught a huge clock on the wall and I was amused to see that three hours had already passed.

I wasn't really paying close attention to Claudette until I had seated myself again, when I looked down at her. She was sleeping. And warm…so warm. Her skin was so soft, too. Almost too soft. The skin of a newborn baby. It reminded me of what I had read from Anne Rice of Lasher from the Lives of the Mayfair Witches.

It was a feeling unlike any other. Stronger than any sadness, stronger than happiness…stronger than even how I'd felt when I had realized that I was in love with Amber. It was stronger than anything I'd felt ever. And it was the realization that I was a _father_. Officially. And nothing could take that away from me.

After a few moments Claudette's eyes fluttered open. My stomach twisted for a moment, afraid that she'd start to cry, but instead she giggled and stared up at me in wonder. 

I'd heard somewhere that all babies were born with blue eyes, but I hoped totally that they would stay like that. My mother had blue eyes. Amber's mother, too…and for what it was worth I had a blue looking eyes because the pigment was all fucked up if that meant anything. But I hoped that Claudette would have, even by the rarest scientific possibility, blue eyes, because that would be so damn pretty. I loved blue eyes. Well most guys did…but still. That would be great.

Claudette stared at me. I stared at her, mesmerized. I felt my heart swelling to its maximum. And then as I reached to go feel the golden tuft of hair on her head she grabbed, or tried to grab, one of my fingers, but could fit her hand around it.

I don't know why I was so surprised. I must've seen it a billion times in movies but still it caught me off guard. And if my heart had been swelling before, then her grabbing my finger was the needle that caused it to burst.

My eyes must have filled with tears because shortly after that I started to cry. It was perfection. Total perfection. And here was this little human that I'd created.

"Kane…you're crying…"

I looked up quickly toward the soft voice to see Amber's eyes open, staring at me. I laughed softly. "How long have you been awake?"

She shrugged. "Ten minutes?" she looked at Claudette and smiled wildly. "Lemme hold her!"

 I wiped the tears away and stood, leaning over the side of the bed to place Claudette into Amber's arms. If Amber had smiled more her like…face would've fallen off. She sat up and held Claudette, looking down at her. And then her eyes filled with tears also, just like mine had done. She played with Claudette's hair and her little hands, rubbing her tiny fingernails. She was on the verge of sobbing. "Kane I'm so happy," she whispered to me. I felt like crying again.

"I am too, Amber."

She sighed. "We still have to give this girl a middle name."

Claudette yawned.

"Yeah…" I picked Claudette back up. "We'll think about that later. For now let's let her sleep."


	16. Jake & Pearl

**Chapter 16**

The day Mark was able to come was the day that Amber left the hospital. But he came in early though so he came to visit her in the hospital. The three of us, and Claudette, were in the hospital room together talking. Mark held her now, and at one point just closed his eyes and was silent for a long time. I thought he getting a vision until he said: "I'm not seeing anything, Kane."

I laughed. "Then when is it?" 

He didn't answer me right away. "I'm remembering the first time I held you. I was five. And this child looks exactly like you did…"

Pain rose in me for a moment, thinking of the fire, but Amber giggled. "That sounds so cute." I noticed that Mark had started to look sad, obviously thinking about the same thing that I was, which was always the case when we thought about or mentioned out younger years. Childhood- a word empty to us both. Amber sighed. "Will you two stop it? You guys are pissing me off! Be happeee! Happeee!! You two are my evil fire kitties, don't do this."

Mark laughed and rocked Claudette. "Hey eyes…" he whispered. "They're like pearls." Amber gasped.

"What?" Mark and I asked her simultaneously. She was smiling.

"Pearl," she said. "It's perfect. Claudette Pearl Callaway."

She was right. It had a nice, feminine ring to it. We had it made official on her birth certificate. And later that day when we came home she let Claudette sleep while she went to work painting a piece of wood that said "Pearl" in  fancy cursive.  When we first walked into her apartment though she almost cried. Her apartment was filled with balloons, flowers, baby toys, clothes…she had asked not to have a baby shower for fear that too many wrestlers would spend too much money on her but it turned out that they did so anyway. She walked from room to room, looking at all the clothes and diapers and toys and even the huge stack of fan mail. And I waited for her in the living room with my surprise. When she walked in and saw me she almost screamed. Mark laughed, absolutely doubled over and laughed, tears streaming down his face as I handed her Jake.

"Gah! Oh my god!!" she was screaming as we exchanged Claudette for Jake. Jake was so small that he could fit in her hand. Perhaps that was why Mark laughed at me, implying that I looked ridiculous. She looked so happy that she was going to cry. "Oh my god, Kane! It's a duckie!" she yelled, holding and petting the little yellow duckie.

"Shh," I said to her, noticing that Claudette's face was twisting. "Don't wake her up."

She laughed and laughed. "A duck, Kane, a duck! Oh sweet Jesus a duck! I can't believe you took me seriously!"

"Call it a Valentine gift…or an anniversary present…"

She looked sad for a moment as she held Jake to her heart. "Shit, I didn't get anything for you…"

I looked down at Claudette. "Of course you did…you gave birth to our little Claudette. Ha. 'My little _Claudia_!'"

"Ooh!! Ooh Kane let's watch Interview With the Vampire! Please please!"

I nodded and laughed at her enthusiasm. Mark took it upon himself to clear balloons out of the way of the TV and rummage through the chest next to it before he pilled out the tape and stuck it in. We all sat down, silent immediately. I let Mark hold Claudette as I held Amber and she held Jake. We must've looked hilarious.

So for another two hours of our lives we were silent, except of course for a few random outbursts with the movie, such as: "There's still life in the old lady yet!" and: "She pollutes the very house we live in!" or: "The ship is sailing without us!" And then of course was "Somebody change my shorts" and a few minutes trying to perfect our impersonation of Antonio Banderas' pronunciation of "good." We had a jolly old time.

That night, after Mark had left, Amber was on the phone with Vince. I heard things coming from her but not from Vince.

"But…no I didn't…I want to…I will…ugh…Jesus that's too long…what about Kane?…Please?…Why not?" she was arguing with him about coming back I suppose. After a while I decided not to listen to it and I walked through our bead curtains from the living room to the foyer, where I took _Interview With the Vampire _off the shelf and walked to the other side of the room through the little door into Claudette's nursery, where she slept soundly. I turned on a light, still astonished at the amount of things that she'd been spoiled with. I pulled up a rocking chair and sat next to the crib.

I began to read, " 'I see…' said the vampire thoughtfully…'"

Claudette, after a few moments, opened her eyes and looked at me, silent and concentrated on me as I spoke softly. I was on page five when I heard a stifled giggle and stopped to turn around.

Amber stood in the frame of the door, laughing. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm reading to her."

She gave a little bit of a whine. "God Kane. You're so goddamn cute," she sighed happily. "Oh I wish I could take a picture of you." I laughed softly and looked back to Claudette, who had fallen asleep again, who lay on her stomach, looking very comfortable and very cute. I closed the book, making a not of the page that I was on, stood, left the book on the chair, and walked over to Amber. She seemed so much weaker now, without the extra but of weight from Claudette and still a bit exhausted from childbirth. But her weakness was beautiful to me, and I folded her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. She pulled the door closed of Claudette's room and we kissed, walking backwards with each other into our bedroom and onto the bed. She seemed so frail…so pretty. We were about to engage in one of our favorite activities when she asked in a small voice if I would stop. And so I did, not knowing how to feel for a moment.

"What is it?" I asked her. She sat up and pulled her shirt closed.

"Kane, don't be offended…but I really don't want to be doing this right now." She laughed. "We've been together for a year now and never once have you used a condom. Listen, we just had a daughter. I want to work, I love to wrestle. I don't want to get pregnant again…not yet anyway."

I smiled. "You mean you wouldn't mind having more children?"

"With you?" she gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Of course not."


	17. A Plague of Laughter

**Chapter 17**

In about another month she decided she was ready. And that month was fun stuff. All we did was hang out. We both worked out a lot and played with Claudette a lot and watched movies a lot. And we were all together, the three of us. She bought new equipment, not letting me chip in, and set it up in the foyer outside of the nursery. So while we lifted weights or jogged on a treadmill or even just laid down to do pushups or sit-ups we were outside her room, close to her, together. A family.

About a week after we'd started working out almost constantly we had moved a television into the room as well, making it possible to watch or listen to a movie while we worked. And sometimes we'd put Claudette in her little baby carrier thing and she'd watch, too, just staring at the screen with her mouth handing open.

The night we came back it was Monday, and I made my huge awesome redebut on Raw. Mark was fooling around with his ministry and- BOOM!- here comes Kane to take revenge. I took out the  whole group of them, exhilarated by being there again. And then backstage we shot a promo of Amber, me on my knees with her hand on my forehead. It was supposed to look like she'd gone evil from when she'd set me on fire and now was controlling my mind. And as she did this she held Claudette, who for the moment sported a red and black Christening gown. Of course, Jake was with us, too, just not in the promo. But we hadn't forgotten him. And he had a pretty little carrying case cage thing. The inside was lined with fur. Ha. What more could a duck want?

Vince had laughed at us. "So not one, but two new recruits for us. A girl and a…duck."

Late on during our first night, after word had spread of Jake, Al Snow paid us a visit. Al was one of my best friends, keep in mind, and when I saw the look in his eye I knew that he wanted something.

"So what do you want now?" I groaned. Meanwhile I was getting nervous as he held my daughter while he grinned like a lunatic.

"Well…"

"Yeah?"

"I had Head, right? And Pierre…so can I use…or, borrow, maybe…Jake?"

All I could do was laugh. I laughed and laughed and laughed. The look on his face absolutely priceless, hope mixed with insanity. And as much as I wanted to answer him and tell that, yes, he could use Jake, I just couldn't stop laughing for long enough tell him. I don't even know why I thought it was so funny. Maybe just because of the look on his face.

As if that wasn't enough, Mick walked in while all of this was happening. He let out one of his stoned sounding squeaky laughs/giggles. "What's so funny?"

Al sighed. "Nothing, Cactus. He's laughing at me."

Mick laughed. "Hey, Kane, what's the difference between an Al Snow match and a bag of shit?"

I couldn't answer him and he told me the answer without waiting for a reply.

"The bag," he said. I fell onto the floor, holding my stomach. If that wasn't enough, Steve just had to burst into the room.

"What's up with him?" he asked, accent thick. "I just thoughta the funniest catch but they won let me use it. They said it's dumb. It would be that every time a person said something to me, I'd go: What? Oh wouldn't that be funny? They told me it's dumb. Maybe I'll bring it up again in a few years."

Al's eyebrows raised as he thought about it. "So you-d"

"WHAT!"

"So you-d"

"WHAT!

Mick laughed. Austin turned to him and glared. "WHAT? You think it's funny, WHAT? You're pathetic, WHAT, I said you're pathetic!"

I looked up for a moment to see Paul Wight. He hovered in the doorway. "What's all this noise going on?"

"WHAT?"

Paul laughed. So did Al, Mick, and Steve. And of course I did too because I couldn't stop. It plagued me. Ha. A Plague of Laughter…how supremely evil…it wasn't even that funny. But by then I guess it was one of those contagious things. The way laughter had a tendency to be.

And then another voice filled the room as Mark, literally, jumped through the doorway, knocking into Paul who almost fell onto Al. I saw as Al held Claudette close to him and his eyes widened into an even funnier expression.

Mark's booming voice went through us. "REST IN PEACE!"

"WHAT!"

"Steve that's getting-" Al started to say.

"WHAT!"

Al stared back up and used his own weapons against him. "WHAT!"

"WHAT!"

"WHAT!"

"Do you know what my watch is saying?"

Everyone at that point stopped, confused, except me. My laughter had evolved into giggles. Mark frowned. "Did I miss something? What in the hell is going on?"

Steve's face hardened, as if he was about to WHAT Mark, but then he broke down and laughed as well. Mark shook his head to himself. He looked at me, "Hehey, Kane, what's going on?"

I pulled my mask off, covering my face with my hands and shaking my head, trying to breathe. Finally everyone seemed to just be staring at me and stopped talking an WHATing each other for long enough to let me catch myself. They edged their way into the room and gathered around me as I managed to push myself up off the floor, finally silenced. I breathed heavily for a moment and my initial thought was to look to Claudette and make sure that she hadn't been disturbed by this chaos, which she wasn't and still slept soundly. Mark asked the question that everyone had wanted to know. "Kane what the hell is so funny?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

They stared at me with a bit of incredulity. Steve squinted his eyes a bit as he stared at me.

"What?"

I laughed again, this time not hysterically but just softly, and ran a hand through my hair. "Funny," I muttered. I looked back to Al, whose mustache made him look like he was frowning.

"Yeah, Al. You can borrow Jake."

"I don't understand you guys at all," Paul mumbled, and walked out of the room. Mick came in and sat down, so did Mark, and Steve bid us farewell, explaining that he had promos to cut. Mick took Claudette from Al.

"It's the best feeling in the world, isn't it?"

"Huh?" 

Mick let out a chuckle, for once not joking around. "Having a child. It's the best feeling in the world and you know it. C'mon, Kane, big tough man. I bet you cried."

I shrugged. "Yeah, so what? So did you, I bet. And yes, it is the best. It's like…" I smiled. "It's like you've created a little human. And they're going to be with you for the rest of your life. It's just such a powerful thing to do. This one person is going to affect the rest of my life. My future revolves around her."

Mark patted me on the shoulder. "And to think, I had to wrestle you to make you come to that party…"


	18. A Whale in the Grass

**Chapter 18**

Things had finally fallen into place for me. It is such an intangible thing to describe. There is no possible way to even begin to describe the way I felt. It's something that one can only relate to if it happens to them. Amber, Claudette, Mark, they were all part of me. Amber and Claudette were the pieces of the puzzle that had never fit right, and Mark…well Mark was just finally with me and part of me as well.

So many years had passed in my life which I chose to push out of my memories, so many years of raw suffering with a hatred for Mark riding with it. For years all I could think of when I saw Mark, even if we were friendly, was darkness and hatred and evil. But after Claudette was born and we really came together all I could think of was light, and happy things. And he was like a second father to Claudette and the second husband to my wife. He was there for them and he was there for me, all past things behind us. And that was what struck me so hard.

But then was a hideous reunion. _He _came.

How he found Amber's address I don't know. If he weren't so fuckin' fat I might call him a snake in the grass…but things being as they are maybe a whale in the grass or at least an elephant. But anyway, about a week after our wedding anniversary, we were at Amber's and she had gone out grocery shopping while I was home with Claudette. She was getting bigger, of course, and giggled almost constantly. The day that it happened I had been feeding her as she sat in my lap, and at the same time I read to her. I was on page 80 of _The Queen of the Damned_. 

" 'I'm not hungry, let's get out of here,' Daniel had answered weakly. Yet suddenly dish after dish was being placed on the table; everyone was staring.

" 'I didn't know what you wanted,' Armand confided, the smile becoming absolutely ecstatic. 'So I ordered everything that they had.'" I laughed as I read, though I'm sure that Claudette didn't understand what I was saying. Or what Anne Rice was saying really. But as I was reading there came a knock at the door. I put the book down and stood, holding Claudette and walking to the door. I opened it and my stomach twisted.

I put my free arm protectively over Claudette, holding her in both arms, which I rarely did due to my size. I spoke in a low voice. "What the hell do you want?"

Paul smiled up at me, that evil, twisted grin that I hadn't missed at all. It hit me painfully. "Can I come in?" he asked. His voice still had that high sounding whine to it.

"No," I answered coldly and bluntly. "Answer me. What do you want?"

He sighed, nonchalant as he leaned against the doorframe and smiled some more. "Now Kane, I'm here to be friendly. I didn't expect such coldness from you. I just came by to say hello and tell you the good news."

"Well you fucking should expect coldness," I said, and then paused. "What news?"

He laughed. "Didn't Vince tell you? I got a new contract. We'll be seeing each other often now."

I shook my head, looking away from him. Thinking of Mark. "Why do you do this?" I asked him, the anger in my voice melting only because I was feeling hurt and swallowing too many memories.

"Why do I do what? Make a living?"

"There are plenty of other things you could be doing," I snapped. "Why do you have to do this? Haven't you had enough of fucking up my life?"

Mock hurt covered his face. "Why Kane, what do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean! You fucking killed my parents and turned my brother against me and took away the only innocence I ever had! Don't give me any of this bullshit I know why you're here and you can't get to me anymore! I have a life now and I'm not going to let you ruin it you fat fuck!"

Claudette let out a little whine, disturbed by the volume of my voice and I rocked her a bit and kissed the top of her head. Paul let out another one of his malignant chuckles. "Calm down. You can be so gentle with that child, you should be gentle with me."

"No!" I snapped at him. "Don't you fuckin' even acknowledge this child. You will never come in contact with her as long as I'm around or Mark."

"Mark…" he sighed. "That boy has some problems too…he's been talking about you awfully spiteful-"

"Oh would you shut the fuck up? That worked when I was ten. I'm not a kid anymore that doesn't work. Why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from."

"Kane I'm not going to play with-"

"Hey," I said sarcastically and angrily, "I know something you can play. Hide and gofuckyourself."

He just stared at me for a long moment. As he started to say something I heard footsteps coming up the steps and looked up to see Amber with an armful of paper bags. She stopped when she saw us standing there and glared at Paul, knowing fully well who he was. After a moment of glaring she walked to the door, pushed past him and walked inside, putting the bags down and then reappearing beside me. I didn't even seem to notice when she took Claudette from me and held her as my eyes were locked on Paul. 

Amber glared at him as well. He looked to her and grinned. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed. 

"You, too, huh?" he sighed. "Well I figured that you two would be happily married."

"We are," she stated, and leaned against me as she held Claudette to her chest. "And that doesn't concern you." With that she closed the door, locking it and turned around to walk into the foyer. I followed her, happy with what she'd done, feeling a bit foolish because I'd never had the courage to do that myself.

She walked into the living room and sat down in one of the armchairs, letting Claudette lay in the crook of her arm. Her head tilted to the side as she looked down at her daughter and with her free hand rubbed some of her fuzzy hair back. "What did he want?" she asked, quiet, distracted as she concentrated on Claudette.

I walked in and sat down on the couch, facing them from across the room. I picked up _The Queen of the Damned_ and closed it, making a mental note of the page. "I don't know," I said to her. "He just wants to taunt me. He says that he has a new contract…I'll have to yell at Vince about that. I don't know what the hell Vince's problem is. Eh. Shit I have to call Mark."

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the counter where I had left it, dialing Mark's cell. He picked up a few moments later. "Uhloh?"

I laughed, recognizing the Jerky Boys impression. "I fell down the stayas and my shoes fell off." We both laughed for a moment. I sighed. "Dude Paul just came by…"

He was silent for a moment. "What did he want?"

"He came to tell me that he had a new contract…"

"Shit…okay. Well I have a match. I'll talk to Vince. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

We hung up. I made myself useful and unpacked the groceries that Amber had left on the counter. As I did this I heard from the living room the familiar sounds of Libera Me and shortly after Brad Pitt's quiet voice saying "So you want me to tell you the story of my life…" Amber was watching Interview again. I didn't blame her. Neither of us seemed to get enough of that movie. It was late afternoon then and I started to cook dinner, putting something on the stove before walking out into the living room and sitting down with her. Claudette had fallen asleep on her and she looked a bit uncomfortable, wanting to shift but not being able to. I laughed softly and picked up the child, bringing her carefully into her room where I set her down in the crib. She didn't wake, and when I walked back into the living room I found that Amber had moved to the couch, lying down and watching the movie, subconsciously mouthing the words as they poured out of the speakers of the television.

"…1791 was the year it happened…" 

I sat down with her, watching the movie, every few minutes getting up to go check on the cooking food. By the time Louis had attacked Yvette it was done, and I served the food and brought the plates into the living room to put them down on the coffee table. Amber seemed very tired and melancholy.

"What's wrong?" I asked her. 

She sighed. "I…I don't know. I'm just a little stressed out."

"Why?" I asked softly, not meaning to press her but just be calm.

"Paul…I was hoping that he'd never come. I just feel like…I'm feeling everything that you told me about and I'm having bad feelings about him. I don't want him traveling with us. I don't want him anywhere near Claudette," she sighed. "Can we get a restraining order without like a real cause? Like a cause of something that happened recently?"

"I don't know…listen, I don't like this either but let's just give it a few weeks and see how everything is. I don't think he'd even try to get to Claudette. If he did I'd kill him. Or Mark would. Trust me on that one. Just calm down. We're leaving tomorrow night. Just be calm. Rest. We have a big week."

"I know, Kane, I know, but I just don't feel good about this."

"Amber I understand. I told you that. Don't think I'm not feeling this. But just be calm. I promise I won't let anything happen to either of you."


	19. Playing in the Bathtub: Part IV

I told myself that I wouldn't post unless I had like a bunch of chapters so that I could post it in parts…but due to my being harassed by a certain psychopath ::coughcough_SAPHRIN_coughcough:: I decided to save myself the trouble and just post these chapters as I type them. I have up to 24 but I won't post them all at once just as revenge that that person that keeps annoying me…so there.

Chapter 19 

The next night we packed enough things in our bags to last us a week or two and left for the airport. On the plane Amber seemed very distracted and worried and she just leaned against me as she held Claudette. I put my arm around her shoulders, talking softly to her, assuring her that everything would be okay. She didn't seem to want to believe me but for my sake and hers she calmed herself. After we landed, Mark picked us up at the airport in Boston and we went back to our hotel. Jake was being antsy in the car and kept making weird duck sounds, quacking and what have you. He was flapping around at Mark as he tried to drive until finally I grabbed him and wouldn't let him fly around. Mark was laughing.

"You guys are insane. I mean, who the hell brings a duck with them on tour?"

"Us," Amber and I said simultaneously and monotonously.

"Eh...exactly..." he mumbled. We finally got to the hotel and he parked and we walked up to the room. Amber carried Claudette while Mark and I carried our bags, and as I held Jake in my hand. In the room Jake kept flapping around at the window until finally I went into the bathroom and filled the bathtub with water so that he swam around and kept himself occupied. Amber was lying on the bed and watching TV as all of this went on, Claudette lying on her chest. I came in and sat down next to them.

"Jake is playing in the bathtub," I told her. She laughed softly.

 "He's great," she smiled. "Thank you..."  

"What?" 

She laughed some more.  "Kane... you got me a duck. If you don't think that's special you're insane. It's great. Jake is great! He's my Noble Duck."

"Noble Duck?"

"Yeah... Sir Jake the Noble Duck."

"Man... you're crazier than I thought..."  

"And that's why you love me, right?"

"Exactly."

We kissed then and she laughed as she looked toward the bathroom. A great deal of splashing could be heard. "Make sure he doesn't  mess the place up. Vince wouldn't be a happy big corporation owning duckie at that."

I laughed also and walked back into the bathroom, where I closed the lid of the toilet and sat down to watch Sir Jake. He was flapping his wings and water was going all over the floor. He jumped up onto the edge of the tub and then jumped into my lap.

"Aww, Jake," I complained, "you re getting me all wet...aww dude that s not cool...dude weak…" I groaned as he quacked at me but then just gave in and patted his head gently...as not to hurt him because he was so small to me. 

Amber appeared suddenly in the doorway. Claudette was gone from her arms and she had her hair down and hanging around her shoulders in that dark purple cascade that I loved. We just stared at each other in silence for a moment until Jake interrupted our quiet... something like this:

"QUACK!"

Was that sound correct? Quack? Eh... you know what I mean I m sure... 

Both of us laughed. She stared at Jake and he stared back at her for a few moments before losing interest and going back to more fun things like jumping off my lap and into the tub, splashing and covering both of us with a bit of water. I laughed and pulled her out of the room, closing the bathroom door to protect ourselves from the onslaught of water caused by his flapping wings. She giggled as I laughed and collapsed into my arms, sighing happily. I looked over her, across the room to the bassinet where Claudette slept. I just stared at her and stopped laughing, drowning in my own thoughts. She pulled away and looked up at me.

"Kane, what is it?"

"Nothing..."

"C'mon, don't do this. What s wrong?"

"That's it. Nothing is wrong. I was just thinking about you and Claudette," I felt my eyes fill with tears and I blushed, a bit frustrated with my feeling oversensitive all the time. She rubbed my lower arm, as it was closer to hers than my biceps. How funny. But she said nothing, just stared at me softly, without words urging me to speak. "I just can t believe this is happening." I turned away from her, not at all in a rude way as I walked over and sat down on one of the beds so that Claudette slept just before me. Without waking her I ran my hand over her head, the fuzzy hair that was beginning to darken but no where near dark, just having gone from white blonde to golden. Amber followed me and sat down beside me, placing a hand supportingly on my thigh.

"Talk to me," she said quietly.

"It s just that... I don't know. I m in shock. And I feel like crying. I can t believe that I could've once been so miserable, so certain that I would someday die alone and most likely from my own accord... the thought of suicide was always there but always so ridiculous to me that I was able to push it away. I don't think I ever would've done it, not then anyway, because I knew that Mark was there and I couldn't just leave him... but the thoughts only grew strong at certain times, like at Christmas and Thanksgiving and Valentine s Day... and the night that we met I wasn't even going to come. I was just going to stay in my hotel room all night moping and watching infomercials and maybe some Lifetime movies... because they re just interesting. I just moved from city to city all the time, checking out of one hotel and into the next and using rental cars and staying for a few hours to settle into an arena and I had no real concrete home except for my one in Vermont which I honestly hated because it was so alone. And that night that we met I had to wrestle Mark and he made me tap out because he decided to sit on my chest and wouldn't get off and I couldn't breath... because he s like... 328...so I tapped. That was why I wore an Undertaker shirt... and it frightens me that perhaps if I hadn't gone I never would've known you. And I d rather die tomorrow than live for years without ever knowing who you were and without knowing what real love was. And then her' s Claudette who has sprung from us and I can't help but to think of our future, our trio here, and know that no matter what happens our lives will revolve around her as her parents. The rest of our lives, no matter what happens, is her. We have to raise her and go through things that everyone goes through and she'll learn how to walk and how to talk and then she'll go to school and get an education and she'll grow up and she'll make friends and go out with guys and start driving and maybe go to college... and then one day she might get married and have children and she'll start the same thing over and if we're still around we'll know the same thing. We had a year alone together and now we have a daughter for the next seventeen or eighteen years. And I just wonder what might have happened if I hadn't listened to Mark or really just punched him in the nuts and told him to get off and just stayed in the darkness. That s why I cry, Amber. Because I can't know and don't know what I would've done without you." 

She was silent out of respect I think. She leaned her head on my arm, hands around the same arm as she sat there. I sighed, feeling a type of relief from something I didn't know was making me tense. But I had finally told her all these things that I thought of constantly and never told her. She kissed my arm just because it was the closest place for her to kiss.

"I know what you feel. I'm so happy that John left me that night..."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, me too."


	20. Ravens and Duckies and SwansOH MY!

**Chapter 20**

We were in Boston. Raw. The first night that Paul's contract was active.

Mark was in a bad mood and wouldn't tell me why. I couldn't tell if he was just tense about it all or if something had happened between him and the whale in the grass. I didn't want to ask though, for fear of him exploding in anger. I didn't want that.

The four of us stayed close, sharing a locker room. Claudette I don't think left Amber s arms except for when she handed her over to me so that she could get dressed. I felt really sorry for her. Because unlike her, I knew that even though Paul could threat he couldn't really do anything. And with her it was a  keep that bastard away from my daughter  attitude and she didn't know him well enough to know that he wouldn't do anything. I knew he wouldn't do anything. Because that's Paul. He says things and taunts but never does anything. He gets other people to do it for him.

But Mark was definitely moody. And no wisecracks or jokes could lift that like they usually did. 

And then the most dangerous part of the night, our match. Mark and I were supposed to fight, and Amber was to come to the ring with me. Neither of us wanted Claudette to come down to the ring with us, either, and while we were running around backstage trying to find a babysitter that could fend off Paul and his cellulite we ran into a couple who we didn't quite recognize. The guy reached out to shake my hand.

"I'm Scott,"  he said coolly. "I just got signed. You can call me Raven. Everyone else does."

We shook hands. "I'm Kane. This is my wife Amber and our daughter Claudette."

He nodded his head. The woman with him stepped forward. She was pretty and girlish, with short green hair and cat like eyes. I couldn't tell if they were contacts or not. And she wore an ICP shirt. "I'm Saphrin. Girlfriend. Hi."

I shook her hand as well and then she and Amber shook. She had a cute grin on her face as she said, "Hiya Claudette!"  

Amber looked to me with a questioning but then shook it off and looked to them. "Listen we have a match, do you mind watching Claudette for us for a few minutes?"

Saphrin made a bit of a squeak. "Oh can we?? She s so cute!"

Amber now laughed. "Yeah but can you also watch Jake? They re in our room right over there,  she made some gesture to our dressing room,  he's an absolute angel I swear he won t be any trouble!"

"Is he as cute as Claudette?" Saphrin asked laughingly, taking Claudette gently from Amber. Raven just looked on with a grin. Amber laughed now.

"Yeah. Just adorable. He'll surprise you."

"Well we have to go," I said quickly, and took Amber's hand and pulled her away. I called back to Raven and Saphrin, "Hey stay away from fat guys with whiny voices, okay?"

Raven gave me a thumbs-up and we kept walking, over to where we had to come out. As soon as we were out of site we simply burst into laughter, to the confusion of Mark. But he didn't laugh. I didn't know what his problem was. But anyway everything went as planned as he went out and then we came out and had the match. Mark was being a bit rough, which I could handle, but I couldn't handle his coldness. I meant to talk to him afterwards but he stormed off before I could get a word in and didn't come back to the room right away. Amber and I stood there for a moment talking until we remember Raven and Saphrin and we started laughing and ran back to the room. 

It was truly hilarious.

Saphrin was sitting on the floor, giggling. In her arms she held both Claudette and Jake, commenting on how cute they both were. On the other side of the room Raven stood on a chair, looking with horror at the duck.

"Stop teasing me just get it away!" he cried. Like a girl he cried. Great for a first impression. Saphrin could only laugh at him.

"Scott would you calm down it s just a duckie. A duckie!!" 

"Eww it s a... _bird_,  he said, a sob hanging in his voice.  "Stop it please!! And don't call me Scott!! My name is Raven! You know that, _Debby_!!"

Saphrin scowled. Amber laughed and walked over to him. "You okay?"

He looked like he wanted to cry and pulled her so that she was shielding him from Jake. "Please Amber help me!"

Amber laughed nearly hysterically. Raven pouted. Saphrin still giggled as she played with Jake and Claudette. I reached down and took Claudette from her. I looked from her to Raven and then back. Total chaos.

"Say..." I said, "would you like to borrow Jake for a bit? You guys could be travel buddies..." 

Raven let out a cry. Horror came over his face. Amber looked at me disapprovingly as if to tell me that I was evil. Saphrin looked as if she'd been touched by Heaven. "Really? Oh Kane I would love that!!"

"Yeah sure we'll see him tomorrow in Toronto." 

She leapt up from where she said and went up on her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek before bouncing out of the room. Raven now was trembling, and he closed his eyes, sighing, before grabbing onto Amber's shoulder for support as he stepped down off the chair and then fell down into it. Amber and I sat down on either side of him as he caught his breath.

"What s wrong, dude?" I asked him. He shook his head, pushing a hand through his hair.

"I... I can t stand birds..." he said. He looked at me and then at Amber. "When I was little I got attacked by a swan. My dad brought me fishing for the first time and when I flung out the hook I accidentally got it stuck on a swan... and I started reeling it in and hoped that it would unhook itself but it didn't and was making strange noises and then it started attacking me! I didn't mean to catch it on my fishing pole, honest, but it didn't know that! It bit me! Oh I was so humiliated I was lying a puddle of my own blood and lake water. And my shoes fell off! It was terrible!  And... and... and-"

Amber placed a calm hand on his back. "Shh... shh Raven, calm down."

He quickly turned and threw his arms around her, hugging her and burying his face in her chest and crying. "It was so scary!!" he cried. Even though I was still wearing my mask I covered my mouth with my hand anyway, trying for my life not to laugh at the fool. Amber looked up at me, her eyes wide, biting her bottom lip. I knew that she was trying not to laugh also. But Raven didn't find this amusing at all. He was in terror from the memory. 

After a few moments her let go of her and wiped his eyes. He looked confused and scared as he stood up and began to pace back and forth in the room. "What am I gonna do? Saph has Jake and I can t go back because he'll attack me... oh bother..." 

Amber smiled. "Raven just calm yourself. Jake would never hurt you. Just be nice to him and he'll be nice back. It's simple. He isn't a swan, dear, he's a duck."

He swallowed and nodded his head reluctantly. I couldn't help but to think of a little kid. He began to walk away. As he reached to door I cleared my throat. "Hey... isn't a raven a bird?"

Now he grinned, and didn't look like a child. More like a man. "Dude... weak..." 

As he left the room Amber and I could only stare at each other.

 "Kane..."  she said with a bit of a frown. "Can you tell me if that really just happened?"

"Yeah it really happened." We both laughed, extremely amused as well as content with our new friends. She sighed and took Claudette from me.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat. Want anything?"

 "Uhh... I'll  be there in a few minutes just let me shower, okay?"

"Sure."

She left the room and I walked into the bathroom, removing my clothes so that I could shower. When I finished I changed into normal clothes and began to towel off my hair. When I reached to door to leave I was almost hit in the face as it flew open.

"What the fuck?" I said aloud. Mark stood there, steam nearly coming out of his ears.

"Prick!" he yelled.

"What?"  I backed away from him, staring cautiously as he glared at me.

"What's this about you trying to get me fired?"

"Mark what the hell are you talking about?"

"Paul! He told me that you were talking to Vince about getting me fired! It makes sense, doesn't it? That Vince could do that. Why shouldn't he? He s never been really cool with me. And you think that you can get away with this? What the fuck, man?"

"Dude... you can t think that's true, can you? I mean why the hell would I do something that stupid? And why the hell would you believe Paul?"

"Well he sounds a helluva lot more convincing than you do!"

"Mark listen to me,  I said calmly, fighting back the anger in me.  This is what Paul wants. He wants us to be angry. Don't even talk to him. He made that up to get you pissed at me." 

"Oh shut up, Kane. What the hell would you know?"

This made me furious. I began screaming at him. "Mark you're the one who left when you were old enough! You re the one who could leave at all! I was with Paul for a long time. He made me live in the fucking basement! I was tortured! Don't give me this shit as if you don't know what I'm talking about! He hurt you too, Mark! You were there! Don't listen to him now, he hasn't changed at all!"

"But you have! Look at you, Kane! You have a fucking wife and a daughter... all fat and happy like nothing can touch you! You think you're better than I am? What the hell? So now you want me fired! Who the fuck dropped the house on your sister? And yeah, I was there! You hated me then! How do I know that you don't hate me now? That you aren't doing this just to use my trust to get me fired? You want me to suffer for the fire, don't you, you fuckin' vindictive prick!"

I almost laughed, anger still in me but not enough to keep me from laughing. "Mark calm down, would you? This is-"

Before I could finish I felt a pain in my face and realized that he'd punched me. And then as I was realizing that he shoved me. I fell backwards and landed on my ass. He stood over me, glaring at me.  "Now who s fuckin' laughing?"  he hissed, picked up his bag, and stormed away.


	21. Pizza

Chapter 21 

For some reason I didn't tell Amber about my quarrel with Mark until later that night. Actually if it hadn't been hanging on my mind I might've actually had fun.

After Raw we were on our way back to the hotel when we decided to get some pizza. And upon seeing us, Raven and Saphrin pulled in behind us. The four of us went in together and had pizza together. There was next to no one in there, and the only people that were there were a few teenagers that happened to be at the show. They came over to our table and ate with us, a bit star struck. But they were nice.

For a few hours we were in there, the staff not necessarily caring or even bothering to ask us to leave. Jake liked them. There was this one guy…he introduced himself as Glenn. He was 6'5 and seventeen years old. He was telling me how he'd been watching wrestling forever and how he wanted to be a wrestler himself. I told him to get in touch with me when he felt he was ready for it. He told me how Mark was always his favorite when he was little. And I laughed and pretended that nothing was wrong. And one of the girls, Becky, she was in awe of Amber, saying how Amber was her hero. She was cute too. I always think fans are cute though…they act like we're gods or something. Her hair was pink and blue, and a bit purple in places. They were all so happy.

And they left before we did, ecstatic with their autographs and the pictures. One of the girls called herself Kitten. All she wanted to do was hold Jake. She was really cute and I thought she was funny. She was quiet though while we were there and looked that she was hiding something sad. And so I bought her a soda and gave her a hug and she seemed a lot happier. I gave them our addresses to write under the conditions that they didn't give it to their friends and didn't stalk us. And then Raven and Saphrin came back with us to the hotel and came up to our room where we all hung out for an hour or two. She couldn't get enough of Jake. And Raven... well he was still a bit on edge but wasn't freaking out. He refused to touch Jake, though.

"Birds hate me..." he kept saying. 

I liked Raven. He was cool. And I liked Saphrin. They were both cool. And we flew together to Toronto the next day. 

But after they had left, after Jake had gone to sleep and Claudette was sleeping, Amber and I lay there as well, in the dark, and I spoke to her. My stomach had been twisting every time I thought back to that night. When I thought about Mark. I even felt my eyes tearing again. And though I'd been emotional lately it had been over happy things…but this was a fear. I couldn't bear the thought or remembrance of what it had been like then. When we fought. When he would say cruel things to me and I just pretended that I couldn't hear him when my brother was all I even thought about. I was so totally afraid of that happening again. I had one of the strongest bonds with Mark ever then…over a year it had lasted. I didn't want it to end. 

"Right before I came to see you at the cafeteria... I... uhh... I got in a fight with Mark..."  

In half a second she had sat up and turned the light on, looking down at me with a look of shock on her face. I was feeling sad and she could tell, and hugged me. "Oh Kane... what happened?" she sounded sad too. 

"He was bitchin'  at me about me trying to get him fired or something."

"Are you kidding?"

"No. And he fukkin punched me in the face and shoved me and then stormed away." 

"Why would he think that?"  

"Paul told him..."

She groaned. "What a fat fucking bastard."

"Yeah I know..."

She sighed. "Why does Mark believe him?"

"I don't know... Paul's always been able to do that to him. Since we were kids. He like brainwashes him or something."

"Eh..." she gave me a kiss and turned off the light. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll get over it."

"I hope he will..."


	22. Raven vs Jake

Chapter 22 

The next few months were very bittersweet for us. But I tended to push away the bad things, like Mark and Paul and everything and acknowledged everything that had become more wonderful. Saphrin and I were becoming very close as friends…same with Amber and Raven. It was funny. None of us would ever even consider having affairs or whatever but it was just the way everything worked out. Like I had more in common with Saphrin than I did with Raveyboy as I had started to call him, just as Amber had more in common with him than she did with Saphrin.

But as I said the next few months were filled with good and bad. One of the more enjoyable times was in Albany. Amber and I were in our room, getting dressed, warming up. Claudette had been able to sit up by then and so she sat on the floor, playing with Jake. It was then that Raven popped into the room.

"You guys... " he said mischievously. I sighed, wondering what he d done this time. Amber let out a laugh as well, putting Claudette down on the floor as she had started crawling at stuff. 

"What's up Raveyboy?" I asked him. He flipped me off and then let out a giggle.

"I proposed to Saphrin."

Amber squealed and ran over to him, giving him a hug. And I smiled, not showing as much emotion as my wife. "What'd she say?!?!?!" Amber asked him.

He grinned. "C'mon, Amber. Look at me. Who would say no to this face?"

Jake let out a quack also at the commotion, causing Raven to jump. He went pale staring at our feathered friend. Jake stared back. Jake seemed to like staring contests.

"Quack!!" Jake said. Raven took a few steps backward.

"Kane... what is he doing... ?"

 "Having a staring contest. Be careful, he gets angry when people don't play with him," I said. Raven freaked, eyes locked on the duck. He was getting frantic. Amber looked at me scoldingly.

"What do-"

"QUACK!!" 

"-I do?"

Neither Amber or I answered him. I laughed at the absurdity of it as he edged closer and closer to the door. Amber rolled her eyes and made some statement about getting some coffee and left the room. Raven stood there still, eyes wide, frozen, afraid. I just rolled my eyes and looked to Jake. Jake stood still, staring at him, challenging him. A minute or so later Saphrin appeared behind Raven, unbeknownst to him, with a huge grin on her face. She put her pinkies in her mouth and whistled before jumping onto his back. Jake began to run... or waddle really fast towards them both. Raven screamed and turned and started to run away, Saphrin still piggy backing him. Jake was quacking and chasing them, leaving me in confusion. It was about that time that Amber came back in, a crooked smile on her face.

"Where's the fire?" she asked. Just as she asked it Mick Foley popped into the room as well, giving a question of his own to respond to hers.

Alarmed, he exclaimed: "Oh my God you guys! Where's the Al Snow match?!?!?!"

I doubled over laughing. 

"Jesus Kane don't start with the laughing again..."  he muttered. "Well I mean I was just passing by and I saw Raven being piggy backed by his green haired fiancée and chased by a duck. And... being as you two are the only people on the roster with a duck I assume you know what s going on."

"Not at all... it s just as bizarre for us." 

Amber frowned. "Gosh. I hope they come back too. Saph and I have a match to plan out... "

Mick rolled his eyes and walked away. 

About twenty minutes later, while I was taping a couple of my fingers that I'd hurt in my match against Mark, the door flew open and in a flash Raven had run into our room and into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him. There was a Doppler Effect with his screaming. It was very amusing. And half a second later Saphrin ran in, holding Jake and laughing. She flopped down onto a chair and let Jake down onto the floor. He and Claudette played for a while. 

"I hope you two don't mind," she said, a bit out of breath. When we asked her what said: "I trained Jake. Didn't you notice?" She laughed and clapped, and every time she clapped Jake quacked. She snapped her finger and he flapped his wings. "And you two know what happens when someone whistles, I suppose..."

I had an idea. "Holy hell!" I exclaimed, and began to ask. "Dude, _now _we should let Al use Jake!!! Gah!!"  I was struck with another plague of laughter. We all laughed this time.


	23. Oh no

Chapter 23 

Actually I was surprised at the times that we lived through when Paul didn't ogle us like I expected him to do. He stayed mostly quiet. But after a few weeks I found out what that fat, conniving bastard was up to. Of course he'd found something new to do.  And his newfound obsession was saying things to others. He'd already started with Mark and a few weeks later I found out about his next victim.

The weeks prior had been absolutely fantastic. Raveyboy and Saphrin brought me to pay no mind to Mark. I was simply too happy with them to remember half of the time. Every night was the same…we'd arrive and play with Jake…or me, Amber, and Saphrin would play with Jake while Raven either pouted in the corner or just stayed cautiously away, playing with what he called the "safer playmate"…or my daughter.

Heh…my daughter…I'm still not over that…

Well anyway I'll describe one such night because it has to do with that fat cellulite ridden sweaty mongoloid…AKA Paul Bearer. We were in Philadelphia, the day before what happened with the whale. Backstage at Raw. Me and Raven were in the room watching the match of Amber vs. Saphrin. Jake sat contently in my lap, all snug and warm on me and peaceful. He may have even been sleeping but I didn't care enough to look. I didn't want to wake him up because he was keeping my lap warm. 

Raven, on the other hand, held Claudette, eyes frightened and darting back and forth between the TV and "the Evil Duck" as he preferred to call Sir Jake. We watched the match, all the while laughing and making wisecracks as our girls fought. It was a good match though as they both liked to wrestle. And more importantly they could.

They match ended with Saphrin catching Amber off guard with a DDT. As Amber rolled on the ring holding her head, Saphrin raised her arms in victory, headbanging to her music, The World by Twiztid. Amber glared up at her maliciously for a moment. Raven squeaked as he saw the look in my wife's eyes. I laughed at him. As Saphrin raised her arms and stepped about the ring Amber finally dated up from the floor and grabbed onto the bottom hem of Saph's shirt and pulled it down. Saphrin's jaw dropped and she spun around to fight Amber again, now wearing no shirt. Raven burst into laughter. It was a bit too surprised to laugh, even though I found it funny. 

She wore a blue bra. Pale blue with sparkles. And yellow ducks. I'm not joking. I laughed like…like the dickens. But I wasn't laughing at her, just the absurdity of her undergarments. Raven was laughing at the whole situation, though.

Within minutes Saph had stormed into the room and slammed the door behind her. Raven still giggled and stared at her. She shot him an angry glare and tore one of his t-shirts from his bag to pull over her head. "Why are you laughing?!?"

He stopped, holding Claudette protectively as he looked up at her. She was fuming. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, "but it was funny…"

"_Funny_? It is NOT funny!" she yelled. There were tears in her eyes. Raven's face went black as she shouted at him. "How is it funny? Is it funny that I just got my fucking shirt ripped off in front of twenty thousand people? Plus everyone watching on TV? Are you happy that everyone just saw you're _fiancé_ _in her bra_? Maybe I shouldn't be your fiancé at all!"

"I…"

"You what? Do you still think it's funny? It's em-bar-ass-ing!" she put stress on every syllable. "I mean how would you feel if everyone saw you naked? Or how would you feel if you were a fanfiction write and found out that Randy Orton read your stuff? You'd be embarrassed and you know it! It's the same thing! How about you go strip for a camera in your favorite duckie boxers because they're comfortable? I wear my duckie bra because it's comfortable to wrestle in! Amber could've told me-"

"Told you what?" Amber stepped into the room, her face fading to worry as she looked around at Raven and I standing still as statues and her standing angry in the middle of the room. Amber wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and handed the shirt to Saphrin. She snatched it from Amber. 

"You know you could've told me that you were going to do that. I would've worn something more appropriate."

"Saph…calm down it was improv. The crowd loved it."

"The crowd?" Saph looked incredulously at Amber. "Amber why don't you go show your tits to the world! If you want to be a slut go ahead. I'm not a whore and I don't want to be treated like one!" she yelled, and pushed past Amber to run out of the room. Amber looked horrified and guilty, looking from me to Raven and then back to me before spinning around and running out of the room. 

Raven looked like he was going to cry. The silence was deafening. I watched as he held Claudette closer to him and hugged her as if she was his only comfort. Mick Foley stepped into the room. "Last time I saw it woman that angry it was after I introduced my wife to Al Snow," he said, and gave a soft chuckle. He looked at us and I looked back at him and when he saw that we didn't want to joke around he gave us each a pat on the shoulder before he left. 

"What am I gonna do?" Raven asked softly. I could barely hear him but I could tell what he said. We hadn't been able to look at each other but finally he lifted his head. There was a tear on his cheek. 

"Don't worry about it…" I almost called him Scott. It was strange. Kinda like it would just slip out of my mouth because of the serious situation but I held it back. I didn't want him pissed off. "It's just a lovers spat I'm sure it'll blow over. Give her a few hours."

For a while he cradled Claudette and just stared at her. I felt so sorry for him. But then quickly and seemingly out of nowhere he stood, set Claudette down in her carrier/baby seat and with a blank look in his eyes said, "I'm gonna go to my match now." His face was totally vacant as he walked out of the room.

It took a moment for it to register after he left. Raven didn't have a match that night.****


	24. Suspended Animation

Chapter 24 

That night in out hotel room all Amber did was pace and bite her thumbnail. She cried a little, too. And Jake was afraid of this and kept sitting in the closet until finally mercy came when I filled the bathtub for him. I didn't tell him, though, just filled it and then came back in the room. When Amber had turned away he waddled quickly in and I heard a splash. Finally Amber sat down on one of the beds. She was crying.

"Kane what should I do? She won't listen to me when I apologize…I swear I didn't mean it…"

I had no response to that and just looked at her. For a few minutes we just sat there in silence. "I'll go try to talk to her," I said, and stood. I kissed Amber on the head before turning and leaving the room. As I walked past the bathroom I saw Jake looking at me through the break between the wall and the curtain. I let out a laugh and waved to him before I stepped out of the room. 

I didn't need to look for their room when I heard them shouting. And a moment later the door swung open and I saw Raven rush out. A hand was covering his eyes as if he were trying to his tears as he brushed past me.

"Wait!" I called out to him, but he ignored me and kept walking. I groaned and stepped into the room. Saphrin was sitting, hugging herself and crying in the corner of the room. I walked in and sat down beside her, taking her by the shoulders so that she'd look up at me. From her tears the color in her eyes was brilliant. She sat forward and threw her arms around me.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked her. "This isn't about the match, is it?"

"Not anymore…" she said. For a moment everything about her seemed to stop, all the sound and the tears stopped, though some of them still rolled down her face. It was suspended to me. Slow motion. It was like this for a while, the whole while her eyes locked on mine with a confusion in them. But she wasn't looking at me, she was looking at herself. I'm not sure how but she was. But then her lip started to tremble and she burst loudly into sobs. "Kane…Scott was cheating on me!" My heart ached as I pulled her close, allowing her to fall onto me.

"Shh…" I said gently, doing my best to be comforting. But I couldn't help my question. "With who?"

"Amber!"

My heart stopped. Every muscle in my body tensed. I could feel the cold in my spine. Amber…Raven…unfaithful? They were the last people I'd ever expect to do that. I looked to Saphrin again, who looked up at me nervously. I pushed her away form me and stood, turning my back to her and tugging at my hair. Amber and Raven. Amber and Raven. No. It couldn't be.

I loved Amber. She was my wife. We had a…a daughter. And Scott was like my little brother.

Immediately I began thinking the way I used to think. All I could help but to do was just picture Scott in my head and picture his perfect face…my hands were shaking. My vision blurred from tears. Oh god…Amber… 

Without being able to help it I punched the wall, hearing a little gasp escape from Saphrin as I did so. Again I found myself holding my head, pulling my hair. Out of nowhere it seemed Saphrin came up behind me and put a hand on my arm. As if by reflex I spun around and elbowed her in the face. When she fell down I realized what happened and with guilt looked to see that she was staring up at me now with fear.

She was in pain. It was Scott's fault. I apologized and helped her up, helped her sit down on the bed.

"I have some business to tend to," I told her. It came out like a low growl. And then I spun on my heel and walked calmly out of the room. And out into the hall. Calmly. I saw D'lo. I remember pushing him up against the wall.

"Where's Raven?" I yelled at him. He looked scared and shook his head…as if he didn't do that enough…

"I don't know, man, I haven't seen him I swear."

I dropped him, rolling my eyes as I walked away. Over the next hour I walked up and down the hallways, asking people if they'd seen him, knocking on the doors of rooms with wrestlers to ask if they'd seen him. I had no such luck in this until I reached the top floor. The first door I knocked on was answered by my old friend and non-drinking buddy David Heath. We hadn't spoken to each other in a long time, not out of anger or anything but just coincidentally. When I saw him my anger cooled.

"Have you seen Raven around?" I asked him. He pointed to the end of the hall. 

"Yeah I saw him about an hour ago…in the stairwell. He went up onto the roof."

I frowned. And then thanked David and went on my way. My pace quickened as I pictured Raven on the roof. As I pictured his face. His perfect face. And as I thought of a million things that I could do with him. And how I couldn't help but to picture him and Amber. How I'd kissed Amber…and so had he. I felt it inside me like thunder, the anger. I thought of just kicking the hell out of him. And then…pain rose in me…I'd go back inside and deal with Amber. Yell at her. I would never hit Amber. 

When I reached the stairwell I saw the narrow set that went up to the door, which was propped open with a fire extinguisher. My blood boiled as I walked up the steps and stepped out onto the roof. There was a four foot tall ledge around the perimeter of the roof with  a three foot wide surface. I saw Raven at the far end, lying on his back, arms over his stomach. I walked over to him, cracking my knuckles and getting ready to pound him. As I approached he spoke.

"You don't really believe it, do you, Kane?" he asked. His voice was quiet, cracking and weak. Sad. He sniffled. It was dark but I could just make out a bit of swelling in his eyes. And he was very pale. Sickly pale. 

I felt bad. "Well…I don't know…"

"It isn't true, Kane, I would never do something like that. I would never do it to you."

"What happened before?" I asked him softly. I came over and sat down on the ledge.

"She yelled at me. She thinks something is going on between me and Amber and I don't know why. And she threw her ring at me and told me to get the hell out. So I did," he began to cry again. "It isn't fair, Kane. The one person I love more than anything doesn't want to be with me."

Before I said anything he kept talking. "And what happened was that I came up here and stood with my toe over the side looking down fifteen stories to the ground and contemplating ending it. But I decided not to. It would've been a mess."

My heart fluttered. "Please tell me that's not what made you change your mind…"

"No, it is…" he sat up. His expression was blank as he stared at me. I noticed then the color was seriously drained from his face. Still he had his arms crossed over his stomach. His eyes were bloodshot, worn from crying. "It would've been scarier that way." 

I was confused and stared into his eyes, trying to pick something up from him, anything, but to no avail. He was totally blank and drained. I noticed it then. Little red pools that had collected at his sides as he lay there. And his shirt on the sides was covered in deep red. 

"No, Kane," he said. "I would never plummet from this weary place…" he said. He seemed out of breath. I eyed the blood that surrounded him. And then he lay back down, turning his head so that he looked out over the town. His eyelids were fluttering, tears falling again. His knees bent and curled up as he turned over on his side. And limply his arm fell to hang over the side of the building. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw where he was bleeding from, as I locked my eyes on it and couldn't move.

He'd slashed his wrists.****


	25. It's My Fault

Chapter 25 

I'd carried him like a child back downstairs, kicking open the door to David's room to use the phone. He was alarmed and just stood there gawking at Raven as I dropped him down onto one of the beds and called an ambulance. While I did that I asked David to go get Amber and Saphrin for me. I probably should've done it myself but I couldn't just leave him there alone. I was freaking out and didn't want to leave him alone and was sure that he didn't want to be alone, even though he was barely conscious. But he held his wrists now against him again, and he was dreadfully pale. I sat down on the bed next to him and pushed hair out of his face.

His eyes were tearing again. He spoke so quietly. "Kane…I don't want to die…"

"Don't worry about it, man, you'll be fine…" I placed a hand over his and just stared at him. His eyes drifted over to the window slowly, nearly dead. Distant again. And tears spilled again. I stood for a moment to go into the bathroom, taking towels from the racks and coming back to hold them against his wrists. He didn't seem to notice me doing this but I did it anyway. And I cried, seeing his state. If it hadn't been for me it wouldn't have gotten this far. I wanted to kick his ass and was too slow in finding him. I could've gotten up there before he had stepped down from the ledge and everything would've been fine. 

"Scott!" Amber burst into the room and practically jumped onto the bed, kneeling over him and trying to talk to him. She lifted his head to look at her, trying to get him to see her. "C'mon Scott, don't do this, stay awake!" she cried. When I turned I saw that Saphrin had walked in and just stood there glaring at Amber.

"I knew it was true…" she said. "I didn't want to believe him but I know it's true. Look at you on top of him like that."

Amber got off immediately. "What? Who told you what?"

Saphrin pushed Amber out of the way so that she could sit next to him. She put his head in her lap. I was confused now. But she just stared down at Scott. She twitched a little, about to cry, angry. And then quickly and suddenly she moved so that she was lying down on the bed beside him.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have yelled at you, honey…" she whispered to him. Her eyes were filled and glazed over again. Raven's head turned, seeming rolling lifelessly to look at her. His skin was so white. He's lost a lot of blood.

"Now what the hell is going on?" we turned to see Vince McMahon strutting into the room. For a moment there was a bit of humor to see him, in his billion dollar PJ's and robe and slippers and the glasses that made him look almost rabbit like. He looked at Scott and over him came that famous look of his. Like he was going to vomit. He cleared his throat. "Kane, come here…"

I didn't want to leave the room and wasn't about to. I couldn't, and so I just walked with Vince to the corner of the room to speak. My eyes never left Scott was we spoke.

"What happened?"

I still wouldn't look away. "He and Saphrin got into a fight…she thought he was cheating on her and so threw her ring at him. And I found him up on the roof with his wrists cut. That's all I know."

Vince put a hand on my arm, as a normal man would've placed a hand on my shoulder but it was a height difference thing I guess. I turned to him now. He looked at me very sternly. "Does this have anything to do with Paul?"

I was caught off guard by the question. "What?"

"I saw him speaking to Saphrin shortly before she left the arena tonight. She was crying when she walked away. Did you know?"

"No!" I turned to her. "Saph! Why were you talking to Paul?"

Tears flowed freely from her eyes now. One hand lay tangled in Scott's hair while the other hand reached to wipe tears from her eyes. "He was telling me about Scott and Amber. He was right. I was fucking stupid not to have seen it. Not to see that Amber and him have been sleeping with each other this whole time. And now look at him…"

I was at her side in an instant, nearly melodramatically, soap operaishly talking to her. "I told you never to talk to him! He knows how to play with people's minds!"

The paramedics started to come into the room then, and a little group of people, whether curious or concerned, public or wrestlers, stood outside the door. As they started to put Scott on a stretcher she stood and looked straight at me. And then angrily to Amber. 

"Kane it's so obvious! I see it now!"

I grabbed her by the shoulders. "Saph! Do you really think he'd slash his wrists over you if he was in love with my wife? It's absurd!"

Her head turned sideways as she looked at him, as they started to strap him onto the stretcher. She twitched again. And then let out a sob. "This is all my fault, isn't it?" she cried. "He's gonna die and…and it's my fault!" she went into a state now. Wailing, shaking.

Amber gently touched Saphrin's arm. "Saph, hun, he'll be fine," she said. She was crying, too.   
"He's not gonna die."

Saphrin threw her arms around Amber and they held each other. "I'm sorry!" Saph managed to choke out. "I shouldn't have been so stupid! Amber you're my best friend, why the hell would you and Raven be together?! I'm so stupid! Please forgive me!"

"Shh…" Amber said, and rubbed her friend's back. "It isn't your fault. It's Paul's."

"But now he's hurt and it's because of what I said to him! He really did love me and I know it! He wouldn't have just wandered aimlessly out of the arena in turmoil over me if he didn't. He wouldn't have asked me to marry him if he didn't."

Amber looked up at me as if she didn't know what to do. But then she just rubbed Saph's back some more and got her to walk with the paramedics to walk with the stretcher. Amber mouthed to me that she and I should ride there, and so I waited for them to leave before going down to get Claudette and Jake and the car. The last thing I heard was Amber's trying to comfort Saphrin.

"Don't worry…" she said. "He'll be fine, I promise…" I heard uncertainty in her voice.****


	26. Raven's Glasses

Chapter 26 

I didn't know what they were doing with him at the hospital, and didn't want to. We just sat in one of the waiting rooms, silent as they worked on him or whatever. I'd say more about what they were doing if I knew. That was one of the worst times that I have ever known, those few hours when we didn't talk. And after they did whatever they did to help him someone came in to tell us that he was doing okay and said that we could come in and see him, even though he wasn't conscious. And so we did that and walked into the room. Upon seeing him my stomach flipped. Saphrin began to cry again and Amber just looked overly worried. He wore an oxygen mask and breathed slowly. His skin was still very pale and sickly looking.

None of us looked to his wrists and made a special effort to keep our gaze away from them. The guilt I felt as I sat there, seeing him so weak, was overwhelming. But at the same time I knew that we all blamed ourselves. It was my fault for not being quicker and Amber's fault for ripping off Saphrin's shirt and Saph's fault for yelling at him and for listening to Paul. And poor Scott…he was stuck in the middle of all of this. And he turned out to be the one hurt most by it all when it wasn't his fault at all.

Again we sat in silence, this time with him, though, so it wasn't as bad. It felt better. After a long time Saphrin finally stood. She placed a hand on his and gently slid her ring onto his little finger; his own ring was worn right beside it. 

"I'll be back in a little while," she whispered. She leaned over him and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she stood back up she looked down at him for a moment, twirling her fingers in his red hair. I saw her crying again. Then she looked up at me. "Kane," she said. Her voice was strong now. "I need you to bring me back to the hotel…there's business I must tend to." I recognized the repetition of what I had said earlier that evening.

"For what?" I asked her. Her face darkened.

"That isn't important now," she said bluntly. She straightened herself and put her jacket on, which she'd thrown over the back of a chair. I nodded and began to walk out of the room. Amber informed us that she'd stay with him while we were gone. Leaving the hospital was the best and worst thing to happen. It felt so good to be out of there and in fresh air but terrible and guilt ridden to leave him there. We were like magnets almost. 

We climbed into the car and I started it. She was very solemn as I pulled out of the parking lot and also as we drove to the hotel. In the short few months I'd known her I'd seen her like this. I knew that she was planning something. It was the expression in her eyes. They were cold and fixed on nothing. She was somewhere else. And her muscles just barely flexed.

She had a tendency to do this before promos. Just thinking and planning on what to say and how to say it. What to do and how to do it. But right then I didn't have the heart to ask when she was thinking about. We drove in silence. My eyes locked on the road except for a few occasional glances to her. At red lights and stop signs I would look over to see her moving her fingers just slightly, then curling them into a fist only to let go and do it again. I didn't understand and couldn't tell what she was doing.

The moment I had parked she stepped out of the car and began to walk away. I got out after her and walked quickly to keep up with her as she crossed the parking garage and pushed open the metal door. She frightened me doing this. She walked with a purpose as if she were out to kill. But I followed her nonetheless. 

Through the lobby she walked straight to the elevator. Conveniently no one was in it so they wouldn't have to see her like this as well. She stood right in the middle, hands and her sides. If I hadn't just gotten in beside her she may have gone without me. In fact I don't think she even saw me. She still wasn't herself. She was somewhere else. Her eyes were locked on nothing. 

"What's wrong?" I asked her. She slowly turned her head to look at me. Her gaze seemed to pass through me.

"Absolutely nothing," she said monotonously. For a moment her eyes came into focus and she looked at me, but then just turned her head back to the doors of the elevator. A few seconds later it opened. She stepped out, me following, and made her way down the hallway. This confused me completely as I had no idea where she was going now. And she was walking so fast, never breaking into a run. Sometimes, not just then, either, keeping up with her was intoxicating. She was an exciting person. And right now I was literally trying to keep up with her when normally I just meant that in terms of keeping a conversation.

Finally she stopped and turned to one of the doors. With the side of a fist she pounded on it, then took a step sideways as not to be seen through the peephole. I did the same. When I heard a high pitched whine asking who was there my blood ran cold. But then I looked at her, and knowing Saphrin I had to grin. 

The door opened and Paul stepped outside. She glared at him, letting him see her. He smiled and looked at us and asked what he could do for us. He began to say something about Amber being a prostitute but was cut off by a fist hitting him in the mouth. I knew then why Saphrin had been clenching her fists in the car. And I smiled, taking a step back from her and not bothering to break up what I witnessed.

She punched him hard in the face again. "You fat fuck!" she screamed, and kicked him between the legs. His face turned bright red as he fell over, falling down to his hands and knees. She kicked him in the ribs now. He let out a cry. I burst into laughter when I saw him there. And she kept going. She kicked him in the face. And then again and again. That was when my smile faded, when I saw that this wasn't comical at all. That she meant what she was doing and was taking out all of her aggression on him.

I couldn't see his expression. All I saw was her repeatedly bringing her boot up to his face, and then the blood that came on the toe of her boot and the blood that splattered down onto the carpet. But then she reached down and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up so that he looked at her. I shuddered. His face was swollen, misshapen and just red. Blood everywhere. When he opened his mouth to let out a cry I saw that teeth were broken. One was missing.

She punched him in the face again, making a sickening splatter sound. And again and again she punched him. Blood covered her hand and even splashed onto her shirt and a little on her face. When I saw the blood on her face I also saw her expression. Total hate in her face, in her eyes. But she was crying. There were tears running down her face. And I understood her for once. That enigma that I'd always seen her as, that intoxicating feeling that I got from her, that mystery…through it all I never really understood her. But now I did.

She dropped him and kicked him again in the ribs. After a few moments of this she dropped to her knees and did as good of a hammerlock as she could considering his…size. He wailed. When she stood she looked up for a moment and I before going back to him I saw her eyes lock on something. She stepped over him and made her way into the room, moments later coming back into the hall and holding a glass lamp with a metal base. She held it by the metal part and smashed the glass over his shoulder. The shatter was beautiful. She threw the metal down so that it hit his back. When he moved she kicked him once more in the head. And that was when he blacked out. 

With the back of her hand she wiped blood off of her face. And then she sighed and looked at me. "Let's go get Raven his glasses," she said, as if nothing had happened. 

"Alright," I said to her. 

"He'll want them…" she said softly, and walked off calmly to the elevator. 


	27. Let's Talk AboutHockey

Author's Note: Hehey my duckies. Thank you for all the reviews so far…and you know…Glenn just has to review everything. Pshh. But anyway, this chapter is short, and I have 28 almost done, and was going to post 2 short chapters instead of one, but its like 3 in the morning and I'm insane and subconsciously drank a packet of taco sauce so you know…I'm not really in the mood to be here now. :p But enjoy! I hope you like it!! XD

Chapter 27 

Later that night after we went back to the hospital we found him awake. He and Amber were talking quietly to each other about hockey. Amber didn't even like hockey. I didn't know if Raven did but he seemed a bit out of it. His eyes were kind of glazed over and his mouth hung open a little like a kid as if he were fascinated at everything. I laughed a little when I walked in and came over to sit down beside him. I patted him on the back. I thought Saph was going to die, making little gasps that were half laughing and half crying. She walked over to him and ran her hands through his hair. 

"Oh god, Scott…" there were tears running down her face as she kissed his cheeks. "Don't ever do that to me again!" she cried, and then clamped her mouth over his. They kissed for a long time. A very long time. Long enough that Amber had started to laugh and I got tired of standing and so sat down in a chair on the other side of the room. And long enough so that finally I just cleared my throat because I was bored. They pulled apart then and stared at each other. They had half stoned looks in their eyes…but they weren't stoned at all. They were in love, it was visible. A barely noticed smile was on Raven's mouth. 

"Let's get married…" he said quietly to her. She grinned.

"We are, you know that."

"No, I mean, let's get married now."

"We can't get married _now_."

"Well, duh, Saph. I mean like sometime this week or something. September is in like three months, I don't want to wait that long."

She kissed his forehead. "Yes!"

They were about to lean in to kiss again when Amber broke them up, using her favorite line from The Jungle Book, "Naow don't stat that again." We all laughed and Saphrin settled for a hug. 

"You must be tired…" she said softly, and ran her hand through his hair. Without looking away from him she spoke to us. "Why don't you guys go back and get some sleep. I'd like to stay here. I'll call in the morning…" 

Amber and I made no argument and left. In the car we wondered, knowing them as we did, what kinds of crazy things they would attempt in a hospital room…


	28. Clash of the Bedpans

Chapter 28 

The next morning Amber woke me up. I hadn't slept well but finally as I'd fallen asleep deeply she'd just _had_ to wake me, didn't she? Pshh. 

"Kane let's go to the hospital. Get up," she said. I opened my eyes to see her already dressed, her hair wet obviously from showering. With two hands she was putting on an earring as she looked down at me. "Let's go, c'mon."

Groggily I sat up and looked at the alarm clock. It was already ten…we were normally traveling or working out by ten, but I guess this wasn't time for that. "Where's Jake and Claudette?" I asked her, yawning. I got up and stretched, seeing that she wasn't in the mood to hug. I walked past her into the bathroom so that I could brush my teeth and all that stuff.

"They're with Dave."

Ah, David. I'd seemingly forgotten all of our moments together, and the night earlier he'd really saved Scott's life. I reminded myself to do something for him, though nothing would equal what he did for us. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair before walking back into the room to dress. I knew by the way Amber was acting that I had no time to shower. I pulled out clean clothes and dressed. She was standing walking here and there around the room, straightening things.

"You know…that's what the maids are for," I said to her.

"I know, Kane, I know," she sighed wearily. "I'm just anxious, okay. C'mon we gotta go to the hospital."

She and I walked down to the car and uh…drove to the hospital. Anything more to it than that? There were few words spoken the whole time and that's where we went. When we neared Scott's room we heard yelling and a metallic clatter. A nurse stood in the doorway. I saw her duck and a bedpan flew over her head and hit the wall on the other side of the corridor. My jaw dropped and I stifled a laugh to have Amber punch me on the arm. We rushed over there to see Scott out of bed, IV's attached to his arms, bandaged wrists, the little wheely thing that held the IV's standing beside him. He wore a hospital robe and the little paper slippers. I tried hard not to laugh, again reminded that Amber wasn't in a good mood and didn't think it was funny. Saphrin was nowhere to be seen and Scott was unleashing strings of curses at the nurse. When he saw us he gave a crooked, exhausted smile, and his eyes sparkled. Almost deranged really. 

"Oh…hey Kane! Hi Amber!!" he seemed very happy. The nurse's face twisted into a frown.

"Where's Saph?" I asked him.

"Why don't you ask this bitch that question!?!" he pointed angrily to the nurse.

Amber looked a little shocked but I wasn't surprised enough not to ask. "Where is Saphrin?" I asked her. 

She looked down at the floor as if the situation was demoralizing to her. "Ms. Pyrmet was asked to leave."

"Why?"

"Yeah! Why don't you tell Kane why!" Scott raved from the room.

"Visitors, unless immediate family, are first of all not permitted at certain hours, but are expected to be orderly."

"And what did they do disorderly?" I asked her. I think my size intimidated her. 

Her voice quieted," Uhm…oral…oral-"

"What?" Scott screamed. "Oral SEX???"

The nurse blushed.

"What the hell do you care, lady?" he yelled. "It's my dick! Not yours! What the hell does it matter?!? You wouldn't have even _known_ if you hadn't just walked in like that, anyway!" he tugged at the IV's. "Ack! Get these outta me!"

I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter. Amber looked at my disapprovingly and took the nurse by her arm, leading her away from the room. I walked in and sat on his empty bed. I couldn't stop laughing. 

"Did you see Saph on the way in?" he asked me, and sat down beside me.

"No…"

He grumbled something about Polynesian acrobats or something…if I heard him correctly. He ran a hand over his hair. "That fukkin' wench nurse. Ugh! What nerve!"

I laughed. I was convinced. He was Scott no longer, but once again Raven.  I patted him on the shoulder. "So how long are you gonna stay here?"

He laughed sensibly now, not in his raging way as he had before. "Ha. Well after what that fukkin' slut of a nurse went through with us I'll probably be here for…oh, say twenty five years?" We both laughed softly. I was happy that he was being himself. "No seriously though, I think they want me to stay for observation or some shit. But maybe I could work something out and have bazillionaire Vince help me out with that."

"But…" I felt a bit of sadness coming over me, same as the guilt I'd felt the night before when I'd found him up there. "You okay?"

Raven quieted now, too. "Yeah…you know it's…" he rubbed the back of his head, the way Brad Pitt's character did so in the movie Seven. "I'm not usually like this…but it was just that one thing. I snapped, you know? I mean…" I saw tears rising in his eyes. "Saphrin is everything to me. I love her. You have the same thing with Amber. And you know, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but with your scars and stuff I imagine that you must've felt the same way, or worse than I did. You know that hopelessness, when you just _know_ that you're destined to be alone? Well I met Saph and I have something. It's so concrete, so strong. So right."

I nodded my head. He went on and actually began to cry. "If I lose her I'm nothing. And last night I thought I'd lost her. I'd rather have died last night than lived years without knowing her."  I felt myself smile. I'd said similar words to Amber once. 

"Yes…I know how you feel?"

"Do you?" he wiped his eyes on the back of one of his hands. I nodded.

"Yes I do. And you're right. I'd die if I didn't have Amber."


	29. Jake is Happy, Kane is Happy, Saph is Ha...

Chapter 29 

A week later I was standing in the corner of the ring, in a suit, watching their wedding. It was on Raw, very clever of them. Their relatives had floor seats, all the fans were in their seats that they'd bought on the other levels, and all the wrestlers were gathered on the ramp and stage. It was fun. I was Raven's best man. Amber was the maid of honor. There wasn't much to it, just like any  other wedding except that it was in a ring. And Saph threw her flowers into the crowd. It was funny. I thought it was anyway. 

For a couple weeks it was just Amber, Claudette, Jake and I. Raven and Saphrin were busy honeymooning and stuff. It wasn't very exciting. I can't think of any little funny or dramatic stories to tell you in that time. It was just normal. Kinda boring. And when they came back there was no big change in them except that. Oh yeah, and they got back a few days after Saphrin's birthday. Me and Amber had made for her all like dishes and stuff…they were cool. I won't go into describing all of it. And also we let her take care of Jake for a couple weeks. She was always begging to do that so we finally let her. I wanted to buy her a duck of her own, then her duck and our duck could be homies, but considering Raven's "phobia" I didn't think it was very nice.

For a little bit we considered _giving _Jake to her…but the Raven thing was thought of and we went against it. Not to mention that once the idea passed, me and Amber both slapped ourselves in the head with how wrong it was. See, it wasn't that we didn't want him. No, we loved Jake. But we were always with Saphrin, and she loved him, we thought, even more. It would've been a sign of true friendship if for her birthday we tied a mariner turquoise ribbon around Jake's neck and handed him to her. Just to show that we loved Jake and Saph alike. And now we'd see him all the time but not take care of him. But then we realized that we couldn't. For one, we loved Jake… two, because for a moment we'd forgotten the reason why we had Jake at all and when we remembered it would've been insane to just give him away.

I think he may have liked living with Saphrin though. He seemed to enjoy the time he spent with her. I think it frightened him when Claudette would cry. So with Saph and Raven at least he wouldn't have to put up with crying babies. Not for a while anyway. ;)

So lemmie skip to Valentine's Day. That's when important things started happening, something worth telling you about.

We were at the house in Vermont, going through fan's presents for a few hours. They all remembered Claudette's birthday and sent her presents. Amber and I didn't really get her a present. She wouldn't have understood it. But for the record, and the thought, we bought her some new blankets. So for the morning and early afternoon we were just spending time with each other and our daughter. And as an anniversary thing I bought her a necklace. She loved it. She bought me a watch. It was funny though. I thought it was. She did too. I don't know why. Haha. 

Mid afternoon rolled along. Claudette had fallen asleep on me and I was cradling her in my arms. She was a year old. I was beside myself with shock and happiness. It was as I've said so many times, something I never will get over. Such a powerful feeling. And here I'd known her for a year, more than that even if you count the months of pregnancy, and still I was in shock from it all. A _daughter_. It was so…crazy. But anyway, as I was busy being beside myself, Amber was in the kitchen making dinner. Raven and Saphrin were going to come for dinner that night. They were late. I wasn't surprised. Well for Saphrin it was strange to be late, she was always on time, but Raven…eh. I could just picture him stopping on the way because he saw a playground that he wanted to spend his time in.

No big deal though. I was occupied with my daughter. Her eyes had changed from blue. They were green now. Dark green, very beautiful. Amber's mother had green eyes. I think my father may have also but I don't really remember. Mark had green eyes so maybe. Whatever.

Amber came into the room then and sat down on the couch with me. She smiled. Her hair was tied back, revealing the purity of just her face. I felt intoxicated from it, between her beauty and the beauty I saw in our daughter. Amber's features were so soft, so pretty as she smiled and began to take Claudette from me.

"What are you doing?" I asked her softly.

"I'm going to put her in bed if she's sleeping."

"No…let me hold her…" I said. Amber laughed a little.

"You're going to be the death of me."

"What?" 

She kissed me on the cheek. "You're just so fuckin' cute."

"Hey. I try." 

She played with my hair and then settled next to me, laying on my arm. "I love you."

I smiled. "I love you, too."

"No…you don't even know. I just…" she laughed. "I love you so much it just makes me want to hurt you! Like smack you or something." She pulled on my goatee. 

"Ahh!! Don't do that!" I said to her, as loudly as I dared without waking Claudette.

She hugged me. "I'm sorry!!! I didn't mean it!" then we kissed and that took like…I don't know how long it was but we were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Amber pulled away from me and got up to answer. As she did that I went into Claudette's room and laid her down in her crib, a bit sad as her warmth left me. I walked back into the other room to see Raven beaming, Saphrin clinging to his arm. There was snow in both of their hair, melting as they walked in and closed the door and took off their coats. Amber was laughing.

"What's so happy with you two?"

I walked up to them and gave Saph a hug, gave Raven a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah and why are you late?"

Saphrin giggled and threw her arms around Raven's neck and kissed him on the cheek. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the couch to sit down. "Good answer…" 

She laughed and pulled away from him, kicking off her sneakers and walking in and sitting down on the other side of the couch. She sat on her knees, eyes bright and sparkling. Raven came and sat next to her, also obviously and visibly happy.

"I'm pregnant!" she said. Raven took her in his arms and kissed to top of her head as she laughed. My jaw dropped. Amber and I looked at each other. She looked as shocked as I was. After a moment that shock wore off and was replaced with incomparable happiness.

Me and Amber were on a roll…Valentine's Day was definitely looking good for us. First, we meet, then we have a daughter, then we found that our best friends in the whole world were going to have a child also. It was so perfect.

For about an hour we just hung around in the living room, talking, laughing…we were all automatically happy because of Saphrin's pregnancy. Halfway through that hour Jake decided to waddle into the room and as soon as she saw him Saphrin let out a squeak and walked over to him, then sat down and played with him on the floor. He was happy to see her, too. They were like…better friends than me and her, or Amber and her. The whole time we were…you know, chillin', Amber kept walking in and out of the room to make sure whatever she was cooking was doing fine. Finally we all went into the dining room to eat. Just as I was sitting down there came a knock at the door. Seeing that everyone else was sitting down already I walked over out of the room to answer the door.

When I opened it I felt my heart speed up a little. I turned around to see if anyone else saw who was there, and seeing an empty living room and stepped out onto the porch to talk so that they wouldn't hear his voice.

I frowned. "What do you want, Mark?"

He shrugged and sniffled. I couldn't tell if it was from it being cold or because he was getting emotional. His breath hung in the air in front of him as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His hair was tied back, out of his face as he looked at me. His eyes glazed over. "We uhh…haven't talked in a while…"

I felt my heart ache a bit. Standing before me, talking to me, was a person who was definitely one of the most important figures in my life. And as much as I could push him out of my head when I needed to, I loved him as my brother. I had missed him. I took in a deep breath and leaned against the side of the house. "I'm aware of that."

His face twisted a little, like he was trying not to cry. "Listen, man…I'm really sorry…I just…it's your chosen anniversary and my niece's birthday, and I'm sorry. I feel terrible about what happened. I'm ready to be your brother again."

My eyes burned a little as I looked at him. I had a sudden flash of memory in my mind of when we were kids, in the basement of Paul's house…when he'd come down to be with me. I thought of all the times we'd fought and how much it had hurt. All the times I'd begged him to be friends again. And now he was actually coming to me with some form of remorse. 

I realized then…it was the first time in our lives that I had more than he did. That was why he apologized. Perhaps I didn't need him…but it was true. What did he have? A successful career. What did I have? I successful career, a wife, a daughter, a pet duck, and friends. What did it matter if I had a brother. 

But I did need him. I wanted him as a brother.

"Aww, Mark," I said to him, and pulled him into a hug. He hugged me back and we stood there for a moment like that. When we pulled away from each other I saw a bit of shame in his eyes. I knew that it hurt him not to have the upper hand, to be at someone else's mercy. That was why I promised myself then that I'd never mention it again to him. I knew that it would be embarrassing to him and make him hurt on the inside.

I guess that made me a nice person.

"C'mon, dude," I said to him, and invited him into the house. Just as I was opening the door, Amber was walking into the room looking a little worried.

"Who's here, hun?" she asked. When she saw Mark she froze and scowled a little bit. "Oh. Hello, Mark."

"Amber, everything's cool. Can you get Mark's coat. I'll set another place at the table," I said to her. I walked into the kitchen and got out another plate and fork and knife and all that, and then sat down to eat. My heart was swelling, and nearly burst as it seemed that Mark and I had picked up where we left off as we all told jokes and laughed. 

Yes, Valentine's Days were definitely looking good for me.


	30. Not Just a Noble Duck, But a Pimpin' Duc...

**Chapter 30**

Within days we were all in our normal swing…and Mark and I had picked up where we left off, traveling together, goofing around, throwing things at each other for no reason. And Mark, Saphrin, and Raven all got along together just fine though they barely knew each other. Within a few days though they were very acquainted and there was no awkwardness between any of us.

Mark and Jake picked up where they left off as well. Mark had a thing for staring contests…and so they spent much of their time doing that. Raven's fear didn't budge in the least…still he refused to touch Jake. Saphrin and Mark would often both play with Jake while having deep intellectual conversations. Saph admired him, I could tell by the way she looked at him, like she saw the intelligence that I saw in him and that a lot of people did. And she saw this and challenged herself to conversations with him and for that he respected her. I could tell by the way he looked at her. And not many people get that respect from him. It was special.

Don't worry though…I'm not hinting at anything. Trust me, since this is all over and I'm just recording everything that happened over the past few years, believe when I say that they were always totally plutonic. 

From February to May passed in a very normal way…or at least as normal as _our_ lives could be. I just mean at the same pace as usual. Like…to others our lives probably seemed chaotic and probably was, but we were used to it so didn't seem to notice…or care for that matter. A normal night on the road was to be backstage in a room shared by the five of us…seven if you count Claudette and Jake, and at first we'd take turns in the bathroom getting dressed…then we'd sit around waiting for our match if we had one. Saphrin, Mark, and I would play with Jake a lot while Raven and Amber would play with Claudette…sometimes I was with them but I switched around a lot. Saphrin's pregnancy was fine and normal and going as planned, and she, to be safe, didn't get as crazy and stayed calmed when it came to playing…that was the only real difference of pace with us.

After the event we normally would go find a restaurant…we rarely went to bars or clubs for three reasons…one being that Amber and I had a child, two being that we had a duck, and three that Saphrin was pregnant…not to mention that we normally didn't anyway. We were the types of people that could have much more fun over soda and junk food in a hotel room. Which brings me to our other option…we'd go raid a 7-11 or a deli or something and go back to a hotel room and just hang out and have fun for a couple hours before all heading our own ways.

This was my Perfect Time. I mean…of course I'd been blissfully happy ever since I'd met Amber, it was never a complete perfection to me. For some reason, I began to really feel it in March and April of 2000. 

I was happy. Amber was happy. We were happy together with our daughter and our duck…Raven and Saphrin were with us, and we had friends in them, and they were happy. And then to have Mark come to me wanting to be friends with me not only made me happy that we were together again, but it, as corny as it may sound, gave me a new confidence that he would actually come to _me_, wanting to be _my_ friend. It made me feel special or something…

And Paul…well I realize that I haven't updated his condition after his beating by Saph…

That night when he blacked out, other guests of the hotel found him there and called an ambulance. Perhaps some morality came over him for some reason because he didn't press charges…either that or he couldn't remember what happened. Knowing him it was probably the latter. He was in the hospital for a few days from what I heard and after that stepped down from his contract. I hadn't seen him after that. And so that was another thing factored in to my happiness…that Paul was out of the picture for the time being.

Things were at this pace for a while. 

Our second anniversary came up…May 10. Saphrin and Raven threw us a little party…nothing big but just like…eh. It was only like ten people, our really close friends, but it was special. For the few of us that were there. Amber was absolutely ecstatic about everything. She was completely happy and so was I. 

There isn't much to describe except that it was at the apartment, and after everyone left, Mark was with us cleaning up, and as I was walking into the kitchen to get something, I noticed that a wine bottle had tipped over on the table and was dripping onto the floor…

When I looked down I saw the reddish stain in the carpet, and when I picked up some napkins in my hand to dry it, I touched the carpet to feel that it wasn't wet. Of course this is confusing. I sat on my knees for a moment, frowning, thinking that it couldn't possibly have dried because minutes earlier I had passed through and the bottle was upright on the table. As if someone had licked it off the floor.

Then came the sound…

If I could describe it I would…or at least try to compare it to something but I don't know that I can. It was a kind of dried, choked noise… I'll call it a "hiccquack"…otherwise, the hiccup of a duck. 

I couldn't stop the laughter. It came from me before I had a chance to think or hold it back or anything. I fell back on my heels and just laughed and laughed. I saw under the table that Jake was in the corner of the dining room, sitting down, his neck all scrunched up and like all bundled up in himself…I guess that's just what ducks do.

Amber walked into the room and so did Mark, both looking down at me and wondering why I was laughing. Mark smirked, the laughter contagious to him, though he couldn't laugh until he knew what was funny. Amber looked at the stain on the floor and groaned. "Kane why aren't you wiping that up?"

I couldn't even speak, I just covered my face in one hair and pointed with the other to the corner of the room. Amber stepped aside to see past the table and when she saw Jake nearly melted. Her eyebrows raised and hands flew to her chest. She let out a squeak sound and laughed as well. Mark then frowned, shrugged, and walked over to see for himself. I was watching him as his just froze, expressionless, and then turned to me. 

"Oh my God, Kane. That's the funniest thing I've ever seen. I don't think I can laugh," and then calmly, without the slightest crack of a smile, he walked into the living room and sat down on a couch, in what looked like shock. 

But then I felt pity and a bit of worry for my feathered friend, and I stopped laughing. I stood and walked to Claudette's room, taking one of her small, fuzzy baby blankets before I came back to Jake. Amber was sitting on the floor next to him, I think trying to sober him a bit by feeding him bread, and trying to pet him, but he was walking away from her…well not really walking…like…eh. A _human_ that's drunk staggers…and now picture staggering, but not just walking. Waddling. A staggering waddle. A drunk duck.

Isn't my life comical? 

I walked around to the other side of him, reaching down gently to pick up the slightly disoriented Noble Duck and wrapped him in the blanket, cradling him the same way I may have done to my own daughter. I wanted to go put him in his bed where he'd be nice and safe and warm. As I walked into the living room, I saw Mark again, his eyes open, mouth open, just sitting there. He slowly looked up at me to see the bundle in my arms. At first he remained expressionless…but when Jake decided to stick his head out of the fuzzy mass it got Mark started on one of his laughing fits, which needs not be described. I rolled my eyes, continued walking, and put Jake in his carrier. I tried to decided whether or not I should lock it, but when he began to stagger/waddle again I decided it was best.

The next day…when I told Saphrin what happened, she flipped out, and nearly had a heart attack. She was upset that she couldn't have seen it. 

That day she gave him "Hatchet Bling" , declaring that he was not only a Noble Duck, but a Pimpin' Duck. I didn't really argue.


	31. Dancing in the Sky

*I give a big hug and thank you to Nikki and Melissa…you guys know who you are and why I'm thanking you, no more needs to be said ;) Chapter 31 

Only a couple weeks after Jake's drunkenness, Claudette caught a cold. It wasn't serious but she was obviously miserable and being parents, we took a few days off so that she could rest. We were in Vermont. 

The first night we were there I woke up very suddenly in the middle of the night. I didn't sit up like in movies or anything, simply open my eyes quickly and with a bit of a jolt and sat there breathing heavily for a moment. Amber was next to me, curled up against me. It was obvious to me that I'd be having a nightmare.

I can't even remember what the dream that woke me was about, one of those things when you wake up pulsing with adrenaline and with a cold sweat and a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. You simply _know_ that it was a nightmare, even if you don't remember it.

I've got a lot of experience with nightmares. And in all the years of my life, for every restless dream, whether it's just horrors of fire, paranoid irrational nightmares, or one that I can't remember, I remember none worse than this…perhaps because in all the time that I'd been with Amber I'd only had terrible dreams once or twice, and that was before we'd gotten married. They were just weird paranoid dreams about our wedding going wrong and her leaving me and a million other ridiculous things that were nothing but paranoia. And even the nightmares of fire and burning had ceased to exist then. They just stopped and learned to leave me alone.

That's what I hate about this. I couldn't even know what it was about, but woke up feeling strangely and irrationally terrified.

It felt like the walls were closing in.

All the air filling the room weighed heavily on my head. The blankets were suffocating, I could feel all the strands of my hair on my shoulders and chest, torturing me. Even the body heat between Amber and I was maddening. I gasped for breath, knowing that the air was going in and out of my lungs but unable to feel it and get the comfort from it.

I pushed the blankets off me, Amber sleeping the whole time, and blindly stumbled out of the room, nearly falling as I staggered through the house and into the kitchen to the back door. My hands, covered in sweat, fumbled with the lock, taking my muddled mind a moment to realize that it was unlocked. I threw it open and stepped out onto the back porch, taking a few steps to the rail and leaning over it. I heard the door swing shut behind me.

I gasped for breath, taking in deep gulps of the fresh air. It was cold. Brilliant to me. And I felt it cold on my bare chest, which was covered in sweat. The cold cut through me, and I loved it. The air was so relieving as I breathed that I felt tears rising in my eyes.

My heart was pounding in my ears as I inhaled, calming myself gradually. After a few minutes I pushed my hair out of my face and walked out to some middle point of my field-like back yard and collapsed, laying on my back on the grass, staring up at the stars. They burned my eyes…well me "eye" really…whatever…

I couldn't get Amber out of my head. Her image flashed in my vision and faded into the stars. Like a cinematic apparition she spun around in circles, dancing, her eyes bright and hair flowing around her. And she was laughing. She was so pretty in these visions, dancing with the stars. And the strange part was that I had no recollection of this image. I must've created it in my own head.

People sat that marriage sucks; that it dulls a relationship…I didn't, and don't, think that at all. If two people are meant to be together, if some fate or force can bring them together as it brought Amber and I together, and its not just a commitment of obligation or uncertainty, then they belong together. And time just makes their relationship all the more beautiful.

Amber and I were _meant_ for each other. We were meant to be, and I knew it, and felt it running through my veins, as I stared up at her in the sky. Perhaps I was being delirious, or maybe that nightmare had taken a toll on my mind…or for all I know maybe Mark or Raven played some prank and slipped something into my coffee that morning at breakfast…all I know is that I could feel this. And it was real to me. I was lying in my backyard with no shirt and flannel pajama pants, staring at my wife, my lover, dancing in the stars. And there were no clouds. And the sky was a beautiful dark blue that accented the shine in her eyes somehow. And the red of her lips. I wanted to kiss her.

It was chilly. I shivered and held myself as I looked up at the sky, almost on the verge of shivering, feeling the hair rise on my arms…but all of this was an external cold. I could feel warmth on the inside. I loved her. 

That thought of love was what eventually picked me up off the ground, unwillingly prying my eyes from the stars, and Amber, so that I could walk back up to the house. I was walking up onto the front porch when the in the window of the door appeared Amber. And she was holding herself, wearing one of my sweatshirts which seemed like a tent on her. Her face was worried, hair tangled. She didn't look happy as she did in the sky. My heart nearly stopped to see her that way.

"Oh god…what's wrong???" I asked her, and rushed to the door, opening it and pulling her into a hug. She placed a warm hand on my chest, nuzzling me and cuddling against me. I pulled her into the kitchen a little and closed the door. Slowly we walked together back into the house. We sat down on the couch in the living room. "Amber what's wrong? Why do you look so sad?"

She sighed and wrapped her arms around me possessively, as if I were hers, and hers alone. Like she wanted me all to herself. "Nothing…I just…I woke up and you were gone."

"Aww hun…" I kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I'm sorry too…I trust you too much to think you'd ever like…leave…for all I know you could've been taking a piss…I just…I dunno it was strange."

We were silent for a few minutes until I asked her if she wanted to go back to bed, so together we did just that. As we were settling down, she said in a small voice, not like her at all: "Kane I never want to wake up without you again." 


	32. Wondermusic of Sorts

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit longer. ;) I figured you guys who like the story deserve it. So yeah…umm…in total truth, every time music is being listened to in this chapter, I just wrote what _I_ was actually listening to at the time. And one song provokes a conversation and I wasn't lying, that song actually came on. And when I wrote the end of the chapter I was listening to Queen…so yeah. And the names and descriptions of the CD's are my real CD's. If you don't believe me, ask SisterDeath. Hahaha. So yeah…go read! :P Chapter 32 

The next day it rained. I woke in the morning to hear the rain falling against the window, the weather causing it to be chilly. Amber, as usual, was curled up in a ball and snuggled against me. I pulled the blankets tighter around us, staring at the water that ran down the window and the gray cloaked sky behind it. 

And then I heard crying on the baby monitor so I pulled myself out of bed and went to Claudette, picked her up out of her crib and holding her for a while. She was so…miserable. It broke my heart. When someone you love so much is in pain, all you want to do is take it into yourself. I wish I could've done that for her. 

Amber woke up minutes later and joined me. 

"I'll take care of her…why don't you go make some coffee?" she'd asked me sincerely. I nodded and handed Claudette over to her before going downstairs, and, as she requested, made some coffee. I sat down at the kitchen table, staring out the big windows to the backyard, to the rain. The whole room, under the lights that I'd turned on, was spotless and perfect, white, slightly blinding. It was intimidating kinda. And it was cold. The rain made it cold. There was something very pure about the whole thing though, so I made no effort to change any of it. 

Amber came silently into the kitchen a few minutes later,  feet dragging and sliding without a sound as her feet were covered in the infamous Eeyore slippers. Claudette lay in her arms as she sat down to join me at the table.

The silence, the cold, the purity…it was strange. The only sound was the dripping of the coffee, and the rain hitting against the windows. And in this silence, and this awkwardness, still I felt that warmth inside that I'd discovered the night before. I knew it was something that would stay with me.

Amber spoke. "Why isn't she walking yet?" she asked softly. I frowned.

"What?" 

She looked down to the child in her arms. "Claudette. Why hasn't she started walking yet?"

I was rendered speechless with having no clue how to answer. In truth I'd never thought about it. Because I didn't know enough about child development. "Why?" I asked. "What age do most kids learn to walk?"

Her eyebrows came together a bit. "A year. Year and a half. I mean she crawls and everything…eh I dunno. I'm just being worried."

"Is it really something to worry about?"

"I don't know," she paused. "Maybe I'll give Colette a call later and talk to her about it…she should know…"

I stood and walked over to her, standing behind her and resting my hands on her shoulders. "Calm down, hun. She's fine. We're fine. Everything is perfect. Just don't worry about it," I could feel her relaxing under my touch and began to massage her shoulders and back.

"Yeah…I'm just being paranoid. Everything's fine," she laughed softly. "I miss Jake."

I laughed also. "I wonder how he and Mark are making out…"

Just then, by coincidence, some act of nature…whatever, just weird timing…the phone rang as if to cut off the conversation. I  walked over to pick the receiver up from the bracket on the wall. 

 "Hello?"

"K-Kane???" the person on the other end was crying. I frowned and leaned my back against the wall. 

"Yes? Who is this??"

"I'm sorry…I don't mean to bother you but I didn't know who else I could call…do you even remember me? My name is Kitten…we met at a pizza parlor once…like a year ago…"

Yes. Kitten. I remembered her clearly, the one who was sad until she got to hold Jake and let out the nicest, happiest smile…my frown deepened. "Yes…I remember you. What's wrong, hun?" 

"It's…I-uh-" her sobs were making her stutter. 

"Calm down, hun…what is it? Where are you? Do you need anything?" Amber looked up at me with a bit of worry. I heard Kitten choking a sob through the phone. Her voice shook, tone horrified.

"I…I _see_ th-things!" she sputtered. Now I was confused. 

"Kitten…you have to calm down. Breathe for me. Are you in Boston? Do you want me to come get you? Do you need me to? It's only a few hours from here…"

She gasped a little. "I…don't want to…make you…do that."

"It's nothing. Besides, if you've been keeping up with wrestling news you'd know that me and Amber are taking a few days off. Come stay with us. It'll be fine. Just calm down…and I'll come get you…and we can talk and be calm. Can you do that for me?"

She said nothing for a few moments and I heard her taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "Al…right…" We were on the phone for about ten more minutes, she telling me where she would be and where I could pick her up…she lived in a town about an hour outside of Boston, which was conveniently closer to me than the actual city. So it saved me an hour of driving. I told her to calm herself down, trying to eat something and to pack a bag so that she could stay with us if she had to. I still had no idea what the hell she'd been crying over.

I explained the situation to Amber quickly, and she was more than willing to help out Kitten too. She didn't take the ride with me though, wanting to stay home with Claudette.  And so I took a handful of CDs and climbed into the SUV that we owned and began to drive. I was nervous, worried for her, not knowing what to expect, and so I comforted myself by putting on music. I listened to a mix that Amber had made once. It had a little sticker with a flower on it that said "Amber" because…I don't know but it was really funny. I loved her and found myself laughing at little at it. 

The sounds of One by Metallica rolled through my car, comforting me, and I was able to relax a bit as I pulled onto the wide open interstates. I was able to sing and bang out the beat on the steering wheel, feeling perfectly content for short periods of time until I would remember her.

I could see her in my head from the time we'd met. And her eyes that were just a bit distant, and seemed to be veiled in tears. The way she looked at me, how she tilted her head and looked kinda sad, and how she looked at Jake and had smiled. She was so…cute. It was just such a cute smile. 

And now I knew nothing of what was going on. I didn't know how I'd find her, if she'd be calm, if she'd still be crying after a few hours…if she'd have some sort of bruises on her face or something…I had _no_ idea what the hell was going on. 

It was still raining too, and covered a lot of ground as it was also raining when I got to where she told me to meet her in a diner. My stomach was turning as I turned the car off and got out, walking into the place slowly, unknowing of what to expect and hoping that she'd pick me out and spare me the embarrassment of having me look for her. As I walked in people kinda looked at me sideways. I stood there for a moment, feeling awkward, hoping to all hell that she hadn't pulled some kind of a prank and was really there…or hoping that whatever it was that was bothering her wasn't preventing her from being there.

But these things must've ran through my head in less than half a second because before I could comprehend it, she was rushing over to me from the back. She looked different, more mature, and miserable.  I mean in the pizza place she looked sad but…this was _misery_. 

"Kane!" she latched onto me before I could stop her, not that I would've anyway. I pulled her into a hug, smoothing her hair. 

"Shh…" I said softly to her, and began to lead her away. "C'mon let's go…" 

She was crying, I didn't hear it but I could feel the wetness on my shirt. I put my hand on her shoulder and lead her out into the parking lot, helping her into my car. The rain seemed so…cliché. Or mocking. For it to be raining just then. And cold. 

Before I started actually drove away I just turned the car on, letting the heat come on because it was chilly. By total coincidence, We're in This Together Now came on by Nine Inch Nails as I turned the car on and the CD player started up again. She was breathing slowly and not looking at me.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She wiped tears away and searched through her backpack for a moment before pulling out a little pack of tissues. She wiped her eyes, wiping the running black mascara off her face. 

"I…I don't know…" she stated softly. She sounded much calmer now. 

I nodded slowly. "Alright. Just…calm down," I said, not knowing where I was going with my advice as I began to drive away. "I'm guessing if you wanted to call me you might want to talk about it…so just…when you're ready go ahead. Don't feel pressured to, though."

She sniffled and looked up at me. She was smiling again. "How can you be so nice?"

"Hmm?" I frowned and let out a little laugh. 

"You're so…nice…you don't deserve what's happened to you."

I felt my heart ache a little but just smiled. "Eh. Karma. I'll be rewarded I'm sure." She laughed a little now and I felt a lot better. I wanted her to be okay. I hated seeing people sad, especially her. She was just…so fragile and it was heartbreaking. 

"Oh you can change the CD if you want…" I said to her, waving submissively to the pile of CD cases between the driver and passenger seats. She nodded and looked through them.

"What are they?"

"Mixes. I don't like listening to just one CD so I always have mixes with me." 

She grabbed one and put it in. It was called Wondermusic of Sorts. I laughed a little at the name. My life was just…one big joke. She pushed the random button and Bill Goldberg's WCW entrance music played. 

I think I made the sound "Eep!!" and pushed the skip button before it had played too much. But she recognized it, and she laughed and laughed and laughed. I did too.

"Don't tell anyone…" I said to her. And then frowned. "Hey I thought you were a WWF fan! Why do you recognize that music!?!?!" 

"Oh c'mon Kane. I'm a wrestling fan, not a WWF fan. I watch anything."

The song that came on in replace was Fur Elise by Beethoven. Yeah…I kinda had twisted tastes in music. She commented on it in a nice way.

For the whole ride back she spoke not once about what was bothering her. And we listened to music and laughed and joked but she stayed off the subject. And that was fine with me. And I felt something that resembled pride at the fact that I could cheer her up.

By the time we got back it was almost dusk. Amber had gone grocery shopping and was making dinner. Honestly, I don't remember what she made. I showed Kitten to a spare room and allowed her to rest a little bit and change out of the clothes that she'd been wearing in the car. I did the same. And then I joined Amber in the kitchen. Claudette was watching on in a high chair, obviously in a better mood. And the fact that there was cooking going on made the kitchen a more warm, friendlier place than it had been that morning.   
Within minutes Kitten had come and joined us. The first thing she said was "Oh my god Claudette has gotten so big!"

I had a great appreciation for her because of those eight words. Had she just been some fan trying to use us I don't think she would've cared. But she did. And she remembered Claudette's name and was very excited to see her. Amber sighed. I thought of the conversation she and I had had that morning.

"She's not walking yet?" Kitten asked.

Amber's head snapped up to look at her. And mine also. It took a second for it to replay in my head. The phone conversation. "_I…I _see_ th-things_!" 

"Christ!" I inadvertently exclaimed. "You're psychic! That's what you meant!" My mouth hung gaping open and she laughed a little, covering the tears that I saw spring into her eyes the moment I'd said it. 

"Yeah…" she said softly. "Something like that," she smiled. "Don't worry there's nothing wrong with your daughter. I know it." I smile back, trusting her skill the way I trusted my brother's.

All the rest of the night I avoided the subject of her telepathy and I think she could sense it. But that didn't make a difference, I just didn't want to bring it up, seeing how upset she'd gotten. She was a nice girl, a lot of fun to be with. That night, as the rain persisted, we found ourselves all gathered in the living room listening to Queen quietly, as not to disturb our sleeping daughter, drinking hot chocolate, and just talking about anything and everything.

Except for what brought her to call me. 

Truthfully I didn't really care after a while, seeing as she was obviously feeling better. I knew how it felt to be miserable, and I knew how it felt to not want to talk about it. I understood if she was the same way, and respected that, and just was a friend to her. 

After a few hours of just hanging out like that, we all decided to finally go to bed. Amber went upstairs to make sure Kitten had everything she needed. She was so maternal. It was cute in that way that Amber was. And I think she enjoyed it too. She enjoyed hosting people. Maybe it ran in her blood…I mean hell her father owned a hotel.

While she was doing that I was checking on Claudette and making sure she was all fine and dandy before I started changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. Amber joined me minutes later, getting in bed and turning to me. Though my eyes were closed I knew from feeling her weight shift on the bed.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow without opening my eyes. 

"Kitten. She was so…upset, and yet breathed not a word of it to us. Did she say anything in the car?"

I opened my eyes and turned to Amber. "No. Except…" my voice trailed off. "She said something like 'How can you be so nice?' and it caught me off guard…but then she just said how I was too good of a person to deserve things that happen to me."

Amber let out a small laugh. "What'd you say to that?"

"Karma," I wiggled my eyebrows and planted a kiss on Amber's forehead. "Don't worry about it. If anything it gave us something to do today. She's nice let's chill with her for a couple days."

"Alright…but what about when we go back in a couple days?"

"We'll ask if she wants to come."


	33. In Which Raven and Hunter Argue

Author's Note: Some of the dialogue in this chapter was taken from an argument between a friend of mine and someone else…I felt it would be wrong not to use it. So this chapter is for Jamison. =D  Chapter 33 

The next  morning when I checked on Claudette it seemed as though she was feeling much better. She was giggling, and exclaiming random words and sounds at me. I laughed and picked her up and brought her into the kitchen, finding Amber in there making breakfast. 

"So when are we going back?" she asked without turning to me.

I sat down in a chair, Claudette in my lap. "Well…I think we could make it there on time for tonight but we won't be able to do anything. But I mean it wouldn't hurt to leave…and then we could go on the plane tomorrow…it's up to you. Cause Claudette is better."

Amber looked crookedly at our daughter. "Yeah I guess we could go tonight. Want some eggs?"

I laughed. "Sure," she smiled to me. I nearly melted. Kitten walked into the room minutes later, fully dressed and seemingly awake.

We talked to her about coming with us and she said she would. We spent the day packing and making phone calls and at one point watched a movie…a normal day for us. For Kitten I'm not sure but I could guess that she knew what things like this were like because of her gift. Claudette was fine and babbling and giggly…I was happy. 

The event had only just started when we'd arrived at the arena. We met Raven and Saphrin happily, and Jake seemed excited to see us again. Mark wasn't around for a while at first…I actually don't remember why. I was taking care of something and wasn't in the room. Saph and Raven both remembered Kitten and didn't treat her any differently as they would treat anyone else.  The night went on normally, and when Mark arrived he had some business to take care of with Vince so came in, dropped his bags down and left without even saying hello to anyone. 

Raven had a match that night, while he was out wrestling Mark finally came in. 

Kitten was very quiet and introverted, holding Claudette and whenever she left the room and one of us went with her, she'd stay behind us as if to hide. But when we were in the room, and Saphrin and Raven were outgoing enough to start conversations with her she was fine and talkative. As the night went on she was more and more warm and open. But as soon as Mark was in the room she was cold again. I gave him a hug to greet him when he came in. She was standing a few feet away from me, it seemed like she was trying not to look at him.

"Mark," I said, and gestured to Kitten. "This is Kitten. She's uh…staying with us for a while."

He nodded and smiled, and when she lifted her eyes, the look on her face saying that she didn't want to look at him, I'll never forget the expression she undertook.

Instantly her eyes glazed, and seemed to burn with some kind of horror. Her bottom lip trembled. When I looked back to Mark I saw that he too had an effect from her. He went solemn, not frightened and horrified as she was but more of in shock, or confusion. The look in his eyes was more of a somber, calm horror. Like he wasn't ready to give in to it. Whatever the hell was going on between them, it was clear to me that they understood each other completely.

They must've remembered that they were in the room with other people because for a moment they each looked away long enough to glance at the rest of us. She rung her hands and covered up any expressi0on she'd had a moment earlier, as did he.

"Hello, _Mark_," she said, speaking as his name like a curse.

"Pleasure to meet you," he grumbled, and they shook hands. I saw the hair stand up on both of their arms when they made contact with each other. They reminded me of a divorced couple, their attitude and empty sincerity making it seem as though they'd known each other for years. I looked to Saphrin and Amber to see that they'd also been taken in by this.

If it hadn't been for the shouting that came from the hallway I don't know how long this would've gone on. We all stepped out of the room to see Hunter and Raven. Hunter was looking at Mark and I. Raven was fuming.

"Scott, you little fuck," Hunter spat, "grow some balls and then come talk to me!"

"I'm talking to you right now, slick."

"Well you shouldn't be cause you don't have any balls."

I shook my head, not sure if I even_ wanted_ to know what Raven had gotten himself into. Raven smiled. "Sure I have balls. Wanna see?"

Hunter was getting angry. He looked up at me again. "You damn well know that you wouldn't be saying this to me if your buddies Kane and Mark weren't here!"

Raven gave a confident smile, his eyes locking on Hunter and taking on an almost venomous glare. "Yeah I would. I'm not silly like you, Mr. H."

"Really? So what are you doing later?" Hunter demanded.

Raven faked a scared face. "Why? Are you gonna…gonna…_'beat my ass'?_ Oohhhh no!" he faked a sob. "Kane what am I gonna do???" he cried.

Hunter screamed in frustration. "No I wanna see if you'd fuckin say this to me when your friends aren't around. See if you have the balls to say this to me when I get you alone!" ****

Raven grinned. "You wanna know if I'll go up to your face and ask you if you wanna see my balls when we're alone? I'm not sure man…that seems kinda perverted…"

Hunter began to respond but fell silent, a clenched fist slowly loosening and his arm dropping to his side. For a moment we all just stood still in silence before he flipped out and screamed, picking a table that had been next to him and throwing it into the wall. "Fuck you!" he yelled, and pushed through us to storm off. We all stared at Raven in awe and amusement, wondering what kind of stunt he'd pulled now. 

"What the hell was that?" Amber asked him. He frowned and stepped into the locker room.

"He fuckin…" Raven whined, "I was just walking, right? And he bumped into me and I dropped my fuckin cookies on the floor and they broke and they were on the floor and it was all dirty and Hunter didn't even afuckinpologize." He sat down and pouted. Saphrin, Kitten and Amber looked at each other with reactions as if it was the cutest thing in the world. They rushed to him and began to hug him and rub his arms. Mark and I looked at each other incredulously.

"This is about…_cookies_?" I asked. Raven looked up and nodded.

"Yeah that fuckin prick. I mean…I mean fuck him!! What the hell did my cookies do to deserve that??? Or me????"

Saphrin was kissing the top of his head and his forehead and massaging his neck. "Don't worry, honey, the cookies will have revenge…"

I held my face in my hands and looked at my brother. He gave me the same look. "Am I fuckin really seeing this?" I asked. He just stared on with no response.

"Yes! Vengeance will be served. And I'll tell you the fuck what, if he fuckin pulls some shit like this again he'll know that I have balls when I knock him out and put them in his goddamn mouth!"

I grabbed Mark by the arm. "Let's go get some coffee, I'm going to be driven to insanity…" he nodded and we left the room. 

"Jesus…" I was mumbling as we walked around, not even for coffee but just to get out of the room. It was just a thing…like if you thought about it too long it was possible for your nose to start bleeding or something. 

Mark stopped suddenly and looked at me. "Where the hell did that girl come from?"

"Who? Kitten?"

"Yeah. Why the hell is she here and what does she want from me???" he looked afraid. I frowned. 

"Umm…I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

He groaned and started walking again. "Nevermind…" he said quietly. 

A moment later I stepped on what seemed to be a broken cookie on the floor. When I took my foot away I saw that it was one of those ones that you cut from dough, with the little pictures in it. It had a pink heart in it. I sighed and rolled my eyes, wishing that for just once I could get inside Raven's head.


	34. A Phone Call

Heh…I thought I'd just apologize for my laziness…yes, I do know that there are a bunch of mistakes in the previous chapter and even a half sentence thrown in somewhere that it shouldn't be…but I really don't care and don't feel like fixing it. And I also should add that chapter 33 was heavily influenced by my Raven muse and that he would like to thank all the concerned people who have told me their feelings on the cookies' vengeance. Unfortunately, Raven's…sillyness is that he forgot all about them. So I'd had to disappoint all you duckies but there will be no vengeance of the cookies… Chapter 34

That night after the show we all, as was our custom, went out to get a late dinner. We found ourselves the patrons of a diner which was almost empty save for some poor souls who were sitting alone at a bar. We came and sat, me, Amber, Saphrin, and Raven our lively selves, Kitten and Mark both silent, both looking away from each other and acting like neither of them were there. We all noticed their behavior and, not understanding it, left it alone.

We talked about Saphrin's pregnancy. Raven was planning on wrapping up one or two more shows so that he could leave properly and not disrupt storylines. So by perhaps the week after it would be like before they had arrived again. Just me, Amber, and Mark. Or course Jake and Claudette were there, too…but whatever. I'm sure you understand what I mean.

We left the diner in three different cars, Mark bolting out the door the first chance he got and speeding off, peeling out of the parking lot. All of us, including Jake and except for Kitten, watched as his car drove away in question, wondering what had him this way. I had the feeling that it was Kitten, but even though I knew that much, I couldn't possibly fathom what was going on between the two of them and their gifted minds. Some chemistry that went unsaid to the rest of us.

That night, we shared our room with Kitten, me and Amber sharing one bed while Kitten, Claudette, and Jake shared the other, quite cutely I might add. We stayed up for a while talking and watching TV, going to bed early enough to catch the plane in the morning.

When I woke up Amber was still sleeping. I just barely caught dawn coming through the cracks of the curtains. Kitten was awake, standing next to the window. She was dressed and I could see the light slightly luminating her face. She seemed sad.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly. I didn't want to wake up Amber. Kitten wasn't startled, she had probably known that I was awake.

"I can't be here," she said, her expression unchanged, eyes still locked on something outside. She didn't move at all when she spoke, only her mouth, which barely opened.

"What?" 

She turned now, slowly, her hand lightly pulling the curtain closed. I couldn't see her now, only make out her shape against the window, and just barely see the gleam of the digital clock in her eyes. "I can't be here, with you. I can't stand it any longer," she paused. I didn't have anything to say and so didn't respond. Finally she went on. "I'm leaving, Kane. Bye…"

I couldn't argue with her. I wanted to, but I was just so tired…especially just then. So tired…weighing down my mind. I wondered if she could spellbind as well, and I considered the fact that perhaps that's what she was doing to me just then. Everything warm and comfortable planted itself in my conscience, the pillows beneath my head, the mattress under me. And Amber, her arm over my stomach, head resting on my chest…it was all heavenly. My Perfection.

"Kitten," I mumbled, trying to form words but failing. I felt myself falling into slumber before I could help it. I heard her leaving as I drifted in my sleep. I wondered if I'd ever see her again.

Amber woke me up a few hours later. Not on purpose, but only because she woke up and began to stretch and it woke me as well. It took a moment to register what had happened, and not knowing if I'd imagined it or not my head turned to see that Kitten was gone, as were her things. There was a note on the night table. I reached for it quickly, almost knocking Amber off the bed. She laughed at my desperation.

The note was scribbled, as if she hadn't been able to see in the dark. It was etched on the hotel stationary. "I'm sorry…but I just couldn't stand to see it."

I didn't know what it meant. Amber didn't know, either. I decided that I'd leave it as an enigma, that I'd rather not know. And I vowed to myself that no matter how much it bothered me I wouldn't show it to Mark, because as tempting as it was, I knew that he would know what it meant.

But I didn't want to upset him. I didn't really care to touch the subject of what went on between their heads. It was something I was curious about but was probably better off not understanding.

I decided not to tell Amber about the conversation I'd had the night before. No disrespect or dishonesty meant to be projected toward her, toward my wife, but the exact opposite, my effort to keep her from the confusion that I felt.

So…as planned, a week later, Raven faked his own quitting so that he could actually take a break and go home with Saphrin. It was sad to have them leave but also interesting. It was a step aside from the norm. We were so used to having them around that now we actually found ourselves bored occasionally. Even Mark, who hadn't been around for the duration of our relationship fitted right in with us and missed them as well.

Claudette learned how to walk and she began to talk more. Mark actually had a girlfriend. In time we forgot about Kitten…well not really _forgot_ but stopped thinking and being confused all the time. And then came November. I got a phone call from Raven.


	35. Our Hero Has A Weird Life

This chapter is like…sooooooo for Saph it's not even funny…. Chapter 35 

I bet people reading this have forgotten something very relevant to this situation and are thinking that Raven's call was bearing bad news. I did at first too, when he told me that he was in a hospital.

But no, you must remember, reader, that he was calling to let us know that Saphrin had just given birth to a son named Evan. Amber, Mark, and I all were happy and ecstatic, me and Amber more so perhaps because we'd known them longer and because we knew what it was like to have a child. We talked for a while and I promised that Amber and I would come visit them as soon as we could, which had been a few days later.

He told me about another new travel companion while we'd been on the phone.

"Kane…you know how you got Amber a duck when she brought Claudette home?"

I laughed. "Of course."

"Well I got Saphrin a pet, too," he sounded very happy and excited.

"What?"

I could tell by the tone he had that he was grinning…it was just a thing that comes with knowing him long enough that you can read him like a book, as the saying goes. "You'll see. Come see when Saph comes home in a couple days."

To tell the total truth, the suspense killed me. It was funny too, because Raven, while he could be a very dark person, he was very clever and light hearted…silly, you could call him. And he had a very twisted and hilarious sense of humor. So I knew that this would be something extraordinary.

Mark was stuck doing a show a couple nights later, and so while me, Amber, Jake, and Claudette all went to go see them, Mark stayed on the road, promising us that he'd come as soon as he had the chance.

We went to their house, in Avalon, New Jersey, and met Raven there. Though I haven't talked about it much, we were there a lot and so he just told us to hang out and make ourselves at home while he went out for a little bit to go get Saphrin and Evan from the hospital, and told us not to be pyrooting around in the house because we might find our new companion and spoil the surprise. Within a half hour they were home. I don't know that I've ever seen Saphrin happier. 

She was beaming and glowing, laughing out loud for no reason other than her abundance of happiness. I held Evan minutes after they came in, and felt a wonderful connection to him at once, loved him as I loved Claudette. As if he was my son as well.

He looked exactly like Raven, the same facial structure. Even when he cried or pouted they had the same face. I couldn't stop laughing to myself as pictures of a toddler running around in ripped denim shorts and a leather jacket popped into my head. And also as I imagined Evan running about and Evenflowing kids on the playground. It wouldn't have surprised me if Raven would teach him how to do those things at one point.

"What have you created???" I blurted out, laughing and laughing. It was just then that Raven's voice kicked in from outside the room.

"Are you guys ready?" we all fell silent, waiting in anticipation for the unveiling of our new friend.

"Yes, yes Raveydear, we're ready," Saph said. Raven spoke again as he stepped into the room.

"Meet-" he said, turning so that we could all see what he held "-Sugarbear!!"

"Ahhhh!!!" Saphrin squeaked and laughed again. "Lemmie hold him!!!!" she said, beckoning for her husband to hand her the new pet. I was in shock, quite the way that my brother had been when Jake had gotten drunk. It was so funny…and just…ahhh.

Amber seemed absolutely…delighted would be a good word I guess. Absolutely delighted, laughing softly to herself with a big smile on her face.

"Raven…" she sighed. "Raven, Raven, Raven…you won't touch a duck, but you've got a pet frog?"

"Bullfrog," he corrected, his voice slightly defensive as he gently handed Sugarbear over to Saphrin, handing him as if he were the most delicate of children.

Sugarbear the Bullfrog…

Could my life _get_ any weirder????


	36. Poor Duckie

I was holding off on posting this chapter cause it's short and I was gonna combine it with something else…but thanks to your friend AND mine, Kazza has harassed me into posting it. Heheh. So yeah..someone other than Saphrin…I'll be damned…heh enjoy, duckies! XD

Chapter 36 

Jake and Sugarbear…were both fans of water. I'll put it that way. They had shouting contests. Sometimes they'd tease each other. Sometimes they got along. They reminded all of us of spouses, how they would have stupid fights but in overall they got along. But one way for sure to make them cooperate was to put them together in the tub.
    
    Of course, this was only in the beginning when they didn't know each other. Over time they learned to live with each other. What I spoke of just now was all in the first few days of their hanging out, while we stayed with Raven and Saph for a little bit.
    
    Claudette had a very interesting fascination with Evan, which was cute, and partially our fault because she was always around adults and…a duck. So she'd never really been around other children. In a way, the two were being raised together as if they were siblings, being around each other all the time.
    
    We joked that one day the two of them would be married.
    
    Claudette loved Sugarbear, and could hold him in her hands and giggled when he would ribbit. She was so cute…just laughing and laughing, her peals so pure and full of heart and loud that it nearly brought tears to my eyes when I'd hear it. And I think Jake may have been jealous. When they would play, Jake would brood a little bit and just stare at them, poised in the middle of the room and just looking over, and then he would run to Saphrin. If she wasn't busy with Evan, she would gladly play with him, but if she was trying to feed him or change him or simply be focusing all her attention and love on him, Jake was again being left out and looking quite melancholy. It might seem hard to imagine a sad duck, or any animal for that matter…but you can definitely tell. He was moping, walking slowly and not being his normal bouncy, playful self.
    
    I don't know if Amber noticed this. Saphrin seemed to be too occupied with Evan and Raven was wary of having Jake in his house, and probably didn't want to be bothered. But I noticed, and I would pay full attention to him but it didn't seem to help. I mean…sure he liked the attention, but Saphrin and Claudette were his playmates. I didn't really play with him because…I don't know. It just wasn't the way he and I connected. I felt genuinely sorry. It was the way parents are afraid that their first born child will be jealous of a new baby…well here was Jake, and a new baby and a bullfrog.
    
    Poor duckie.
    
    And then, on the last night of our stay there, I saw the end of the world. I witnessed something that I never thought I'd see.
    
    We were watching a movie in the living room, Claudette sitting on the floor, quite happily, not paying attention to the movie because for one she was too young to understand, and two because she was busy playing with Sugarbear who was sitting in her lap. Saphrin was holding Evan and Raven was sitting next to her. Amber and I sat on a different couch and held each other. Jake was wandering in and out of the room, looking at al of us and then sulking away. My heart hurt as I watched this. I think Raven noticed. Every time Jake walked in, Raven would tighten and wince. I saw this. And then, after a while, one of the times that Jake was about to leave, as he was turning slowly and waddling away, I saw Raven's eyes soften. He sighed, looking at Jake as if they held a deep connection.
    
    I had a memory. I remembered once when Amber, Saphrin, and I had been down at ringside. When the three of us were nearing the locker room, we heard screaming and shouting. I opened the door to see that Raven was being held down by some other guys and Jake was sitting on his chest. We were all friends and they were doing it as a joke…a cruel joke that I don't think they understood the magnitude of, but a joke, and Raven was completely horrified. He sobbed and cursed at them all, and as soon as they let him go he ran away to the shower. 
    
    I remembered when Saphrin had trained Jake, and Raven had run screaming and cowardly away. I remembered when they were first acquainted, thought of the site of Raven as he'd stood on a chair scowling. I remembered how we'd hang out.
    
    I thought all hope between he and Jake had been lost a long time ago.
    
    But now…he looked sympathetic. With a sigh he finally stood up, and as Jake was moping about and just leaving the room, Raven stepped in front of him.
    
    Jake stopped and looked up at him. Amber, Saphrin and I all stopped and looked at him. Even Claudette noticed and looked, holding the oblivious frog close to her.
    
    "Hey, duck," Raven said softly, and winced a little as he reached down and gently picked him up the way he must've been seeing us do for the past year or so. I thought my heart was going to stop. It was as if the world had stopped spinning.
    
    Raven…holding…Jake…
    
    Amazing.
    
    Raven slowly walked back to the couch and sat down, Jake staring at him. Gingerly he began to pet, as if he didn't know what he was doing, at the same time treating him like he was afraid that he'd break. And then he smiled. And Jake buried his head in Raven's shirt and they actually cuddled together. 
    
    Jake was happy again, which made me happy. And this was all another element to my Perfect Time.


	37. Can You Get Him Away From Me?

Hello my Faithful Duckies…I'm really sorry about the formatting on the last chapter, I've given up trying to fix it. ::sighs:: and for all I know this chapter could be just as fucked up and I'm sorry if it is. But you can forgive me, no? And also, my computer is all fucked up and I can't sign on AIM, so I'm really sorry to all my duckies that I haven't been talking to. I've been working on some of my other stories and I'll get them up when I can because me computer simply hates cooperating with me…but for now, here you go. Have fun. Chapter 37 

My Perfect Time.

The idea of life had taken a complete turn for me. Instead of misery and exhaustion, when I thought of life now I had this powerful, calming feeling, and an intoxication. I would wake up and feel Amber in bed next to me and I would feel it wash over me, and I would think of our beautiful daughter with her short brown hair and her dark green eyes…and that giggling that would erupt from her…I would just swoon at the Perfection. 

Even over the next few weeks, as Mark had trouble with his first steady girlfriend in a few years, and ended up breaking up with her, as sorry I was for him, everything was still perfect. And I think he didn't care that he didn't have her because he was living through me. 

It was one of the most powerful things I'd ever felt…the same thing I'd realized the previous Valentine's Day when he and I had made up. For the first time, I had more than he did. Mark, the eldest son and eldest child, the fire starter, the root of everything, the one who was always the cause of _my_ problems, and the one who at times I would fall under had I looked at him, crumbled at his feet because I was so frightened of him. He caused so much pain that I didn't even have the heart to put up a fight, just surrendered, wanted him to leave me alone. But now, he was himself. He was strong and if he was ever in pain he never showed it, and was strong and almost nonchalant through his breakup. And I was…happy. 

I lived in Perfection.

I realized it one night when he and I were hanging out. He and I were driving around, just us, and Amber was at the hotel with Jake and Claudette and Raven and Saphrin hadn't come back yet, and it just hit me. I had been laughing at something, and we were both laughing. I realized then that he and I were equals. I realized that all through our lives together at little intervals we'd be equal until he regained his status being above me. But now was a perfect balance. Perfection. My Perfect Time with my Perfect Brother and my Perfect Wife and my Perfect Daughter.

Perfection was the definition of life. Perfection was when Saphrin and Raven came back to the road and we raised Evan together and I loved him as my son, and once they got used to each other, Jake and Sugarbear were perfect friends, Amber and I were better than ever, and me and my brother were at an all time close. 

Christmas came. We all spent it together. We all bought each other presents. 

When I thought about life, I felt as though my heart could've exploded. It was the maximum. It got to a point where it would take effort for me to remember what it was like to be in pain.

I loved every second of it. And Valentine's Day was approaching. I couldn't hold in my excitement in the days that lead up to it.

February 13, 2001.

I had just finished wrestling a match. In the dressing room I sat there, drinking water, drying off my hair and listening to Raven complain to Saphrin about his boots or something like that. Typical of him…

Amber interrupted them. "Jesus can you believe that it's been three years?" she asked me. She walked over and hugged me, standing next to me as I sat there. I wrapped my arms around her.

"It seems like eternity."

"You guys are going home, right?" Saphrin asked. I nodded.

"Yeah we'll be back in a few days…" I couldn't help my smile. It was the anniversary of the best day of my life…and each year Valentine's Day was better than the last. I could only imagine what this one held. It was beautiful. If I thought about it too long I felt like I would die, like my heart would just swell and swell until it exploded. 

Later that night we all were together in their hotel room. Mark had, for whatever reason, gone out and drunk himself into a strange state. He kept trying to slow dance with Raven. Raven was so afraid of him that he'd go along with it. None of us could stop laughing. Mark kept running his hands through Raven's hair and mumbling slurred endearments. Raven looked completely horrified and kept sending me glances as if to ask me to get Mark away from him. Saphrin thought it was wonderful, lifting not a finger to help him as she loved to watch it. Amber was tending to Evan at the time, and Claudette played with Jake while Sugarbear sat in her lap. She had obviously lost the initial shock of having the frog around and now had come to terms and would play with both of them. She sat in the little aisle between the two beds, ignoring completely Mark and Raven, petting Jake and giggling as if this were the most amusing thing in the world.

"Can you get him away from me???" Raven asked me. Mark, eyes half closed, burst into song.

"Can you getttttttttt himmmmmm awaaaaaaaay from meeeehhhhhhh!!!" he sang, his voice deep and having a bit of a style to it like Sinatra.  Saphrin burst into loud laughter, falling back on the bed and clutching her stomach. Mark's hand rested on the back of Raven's head, and he pushed Raven against his chest. "There there, Scott. Rest your head against my bosom."

Raven looked like he was going to cry. "Mark will you please let me go?" Mark smoothed back Raven's hair.

"Shhh…shhh Raven it's okay…we're all okay…" 

I finally felt pity and decided to intervene, walking over and grabbing Mark by his shoulders. He turned his head quickly, hair hitting me in the face as it swung. "Kaaaaane…" he said, and discarded Raven, focusing on me. "Wow we're the same height, Kane…" he said. Raven stumbled backward to the corner of the room, staring at Mark with fright. 

"Kane make him stay away…" he said quietly. I could smell the liquor on Mark as he stared at me. 

"Wuht up, Kane?" I took him by the hand and lead him out of the room, ignoring his comments as I brought him to his own room. I was thinking of times like this when he was a teenager and I'd have to do this. I was so afraid of Paul being as mean to him as he was to me that I'd cover for him when he'd get drunk. I remembered saying to him "Mark I'm used to it, let me handle it," and I'd get caught not being where I was supposed to be only because I was trying to help Mark into bed, as I did now, pushing the feeling out of my stomach, pushing the memories out of my head. 

I help him into bed, helped him get his shoes and his jeans off. Once that was all done with I turned the light off and went back to Raven's room. I looked at the digital clock and figured that we could leave then and get home to sleep in our own beds. 

"C'mon, Claudette, we're leaving…" I said. She stood and ran to me, grabbing at my legs.

"Daddeeee…" my heart melted as I reached down and lifted her, staring into her eyes and unable to hide my smile. Raven was taking Evan from Amber as she stood also. Amber and Saphrin hugged and kissed each other on the cheek.

"I'll see you in a few days," Saph said to her. "And we got that match to work out…remember that!" she laughed. I laughed too. They were about to begin a very intense and angry feud on television, wanting to make it extreme because neither of them had wrestled in a while. She also hugged Raven. 

"Don't let Mark get to you," she said softly to him. He smiled. 

"I'll see you guys," I said to both of them. "Say goodbye, Claudette…" she turned to them and waved.

"Byeee!" I nearly melted again as we left, walking down to our car, which already had our bags in it. We strapped Claudette into her seat in the back and began to drive, listening to Nine Inch Nails. Claudette had fallen asleep within ten minutes, Jake too, and we drove, at first where we were only facing flurries. As we neared our destination the snow grew heavier. By the time we were home a few hours later there was two feet of snow outside. I was very happy to see this, loving the snow, the way it just blanketed everything, and even more than that I couldn't help but to adore the way falling snow drowns out the sounds of everything else, the way it'll snow and things will just be silent, you can hear it falling. It's just one of those beauties…I felt very sorry for people that lived in the south, and people who never knew what snow really was. It was beautiful.

I got our bags out of the back of the car while Amber got Claudette, waking her up so that she whined and cried a little bit. I could never be angry with her when she did things like that, things that might annoy normal people. But never did I feel any ounce of impatience for her. I loved her completely too much for that. 

The snow was irritating to walk through, and as soon as I was inside I changed into dry clothes. Amber came in and told me that Claudette wanted me to tuck her in.

"Hah…Kane I think she likes you more," she said to me, laughing. I felt very touched and went into Claudette's room, seeing her smiling and reaching up at me. I kissed her forehead and tucked her in. Jake was sleeping in his bed too, which was next to Claudette's. I petted him softly and he didn't wake up. He wheezed a little as he breathed. I couldn't help but to laugh. A snoring duck…

For some reason I'd never noticed it until just then, but as I was standing over her, as very dim gray light poured in through the window and washed over her face, I saw my mother in her. I saw it in the shape of her eyes, and the way her mouth was curved into a smile. I felt the tears rising in my eyes, loving her, loving to see that she looked like my mother, missing my mother slightly. I wished that she could see Claudette, wondered what she would think of my daughter. I could just picture my mother in her later years, had she been alive. Easily I saw her being somewhat like Botticelli's Venus, with her thick red hair and narrow face, and fine eyebrows. I could picture her with that cascading hair pulled back loosely, with some strands falling before her face, with her features round and beautiful. The only difference would be her smile. _Venus and Mars_ in comparison to _Birth of Venus_, where in one she just has that delicate smile. That would be my mother, always with some delicate, just barely visible sign of peace. But then when she would talk, she would become animated, and she would laugh and her eyes would shine and she'd become the life of the room. 

Perhaps I thought of her so wonderfully because I loved her so much, and because she was gone. But perhaps it was just my memory of her as a child, where I thought she was completely perfect. I really didn't know. I smiled to Claudette, just picturing Venus holding her, knowing that my mother would've loved her as much as I did. 

I switched on her nightlight before leaving the room. Amber was sitting up in the living room with the lights off. She was staring our the window. I sat down next to her on the couch and stared with her. Her eyes were wide and taking it in, shining, fixed on each flake that fell. As if it were her first time to see it.

"It's so…beautiful…" she said softly, words coming as if she couldn't concentrate on talking. And perhaps she couldn't. I wrapped my arms around her and her head leaned back to rest on me. "I love you…" she said.

"I love you, too…" I kissed the top of her head. "You have no idea how much I love you, Amber…"

She turned around and looked at me, sitting up on her knees. Shadows covered her face, just barely allowing me to make out her face in a strange bluish light. She grabbed the sides of my face and began to kiss me. I don't know how long this lasted, only that by the time she pulled away I felt as though my heart would explode. She looked drunk. "Let's go play in the snow," she said, and smiled. I thought of the way she had been when we'd first met, so energetic, so girlish. Over the past three years she'd changed for sure, maturing into a mother and a wife, more calm and wise now. I couldn't help but to smile, feeling as though we'd be thrown into the past, feeling as though there weren't really a child in the next room as I thought of the first time she'd been at my house and wanted to just look through it. 

Before I could make a response she was in our room, rummaging through the closet and finding us both heavier jackets and our shoes. As soon as we were ready we ran out onto the back lawn. There was a small pond back there, which was frozen. She went out and began to walk on it, spinning, and laughing. And I knew where I'd seen this. It was the exact same image that had branded my mind that night when I'd seen her in the sky, spinning and dancing and laughing, her hair all around her. I went out and held her, kissing her again. 

Someone a snowball fight came out of this. From that, a wrestling match. She had me down on the snow and went to pin me. The pin turned into not being able to keep our hands off of each other.

This was perhaps one of the most romantic things we've ever done. 

After a few hours we'd tired ourselves out and went back inside, checking on Claudette before going into our room and changing into pajamas and going to bed. We turned to each other in bed, without words just staring at each other.

"Do you ever think about Claudette? Like how she'll grow up?" she asked me. 

"All the time."

"What do you think is going to happen?" she reached over and played with one of my curls.

"I…I don't know. I think about it, sure, and question it, but I could never _guess_ what can happen. Anything can happen. I, of all people, should know that. Anything can happen in life. But all I hope is that her life is somehow better than either of ours."

She was smiling. "What could be better than us?"

"No…" I sighed. "I mean…our childhood. You grew up without and siblings and without your mom…I grew up without parents and with an abusive caretaker…you understand, right? I mean, I don't have any question at all that you and I will be the best parents that we can but…" I smiled. "I think she needs some friends, don't you? I'm sure she'd rather not be an only child…"

She smiled now too. "Oh definitely…" 

I kissed the top of her head. "Happy Anniversary, honey…" I said softly. No more words went between us before we both fell asleep.


	38. My Dear Breña

**Chapter 38**

The next day we both slept late, waking up and gazing at each other for a long time before finally getting up. Amber went to go get Claudette while I made my way into the kitchen and began to make pancakes. I remembered the first night at her apartment, waking and looking at her slippers. "_You like pancakes, right_?" she'd asked me. And I had nodded, staring at her slippers and being so amused that I wouldn't say anything to her until she hit me with a potholder. I couldn't help but to laugh as I was pouring the batter into the pan. 

Amber came in minutes later, leaning against the counter and drinking coffee. Claudette was playing in the living room, I could see her from the kitchen. Amber looked supremely happy, and barely able to contain her laughter as we stood there. While we ate breakfast we talked about wrestling, about how Mark must've had a terrible hangover and how we hoped Raven wouldn't be too frightened around him. We hoped the Saphrin would be able to control the two of them, and wondered if Mark would even remember the night before. By the time we'd finished, the urge to play in the snow came again, and we put on our jackets and dressed up Claudette the same, rushing outside and beginning to build a snowman. Amber had run inside at one point and gotten a camera, taking pictures of the snowman while it was in progress and taking pictures of Claudette as she giggled and hugged it. We took pictures of each other, too, posing for each other. One of them I took was of her laying down and making a snow angel. 

When we'd finished the snowman and got cold and Claudette was getting bored we went back inside, starting to make lunch. We'd been planning on making sandwiches, just like that day when we'd first been at my house. For dinner, we were going to have an adventure in trying to recreate the dinner we'd had at the restaurant on our first date.  
  
After the sandwiches, I started mixing what we needed to make a birthday cake, Amber getting out what she needed to make dinner. Jake wore a birthday hat this whole time and Claudette found it madly funny.  
  
"Oh shit…" Amber said suddenly, showing me something in the cook book which we didn't have as she laughed. "Can you go to the store and pick up what we forgot?" I smiled.  
  
"Yeah sure…but make sure you get the cake done and everything," I kissed her and grabbed my coat and car keys. As I was walking out the door I was clocked by two small figures and looked to see that a small dark haired child and a white duck were smiling up at me. I laughed.  
  
"I'll be back, my duckies," I said to them. It tore my heart that they both looked so melancholy, like they wanted to come with me. "Amber…?" I called back to her from where I stood, my eyes locked on them. "Can I bring the duckies with me?"  
  
"No, they need to help me make cake."  
  
"Ohh…alllllright…" I moaned and knelt, rubbing Jake's head and kissing Claudette on the cheek. Amber appeared at my side. She kissed my cheek and slipped the roll of film we'd taken that morning into my hand.  
  
"Go get this developed, 'kay?" I hugged her, Claudette standing next to us and staring. "Hurry back, this is our day," she was smiling. Her face was lit up, eyes blazed from her pale skin and dark hair. I smiled as well.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"And you."  
  
I kissed Claudette. "I'll be back later," I said to them. I put the film in my pocket and turned to walk out the door.  
  
In the car I was listening to A Perfect Circle, and played _Mer de Noms_ twice through in the time it took me to get to the store. I'm sure everyone knows the way things are in such places…nothing for miles and miles except general stores and little diners, and then there will be those super grocery stores with their high ceilings and bright colors, everything clean and perfect and cherished.  
  
I spent perhaps a half-hour there, then drove to a pharmacy which had the only photo developer that I knew of in a three hour radius. I figured we'd be able to pick the pictures up when we left to go back on the road. So I went and dropped off the film before heading back. The ride home took me about two and a half hours because there was a detour from the snow. I was very angry, having spent a good portion of my afternoon out instead of being at home with Amber and Claudette. And because we'd been forgetful.  
  
All I wanted to do was be home. I wanted to sit down in a candlelit dining room, romantic and elegant and only to us, as Claudette and Jake would be without a doubt completely oblivious as they sat there eating their own food, each in high chairs so that they'd be at the table with us. And then afterward we could all sit on the floor in the living room and just be happy.  
  
I just wanted to hold them. They were all I thought about, in perfect bliss.  
  
As I turned onto our road, the song Breña was beginning. I smiled to myself, loving the flow, the beauty of the song. I swooned, and felt excited that I was going to be home and with them. But then I saw something which made my stomach twist.  
  
The red lights burned my eyes, and blinded me. I sped the car, nearly sliding down the road and parking on the lawn. I was just staring from the police car parked outside to the house. The door was open.  
  
"_Guides me safely in worlds I've never been to…heal me, heal me…my dear Breña_." The song went on as I stepped out of the car, my hands shaking, and walked up the lawn, probably worried enough to want to run but so upset and frightened that I took my time, that my hands shook and I felt weightless and like I would fall down at any moment.

I didn't turn the car off and heard the song playing as I trudged up the lawn through the snow. I stepped onto the front porch and a figure appeared in the doorway, a police officer, a short woman who looked very pale and disturbed. Her hands were shaking as she reached up and pulled off her hat. I saw the tears rising in her eyes.

"Do you…l-live here?" she asked me. I could tell how upset she was, like she was frightened and very shocked. I pushed past her and walked into the living room, my eyes on the floor, afraid to look.

I saw blood.

Red stains on the white carpet. My heart caught in my throat and I looked up. One of the end tables had been knocked over, a vase broken on the floor, flowers scattered. The lamp laid on its side, throwing light up on the wall. I felt my knees going weak and began to shake violently when I saw the blood that was splattered on the wall. A handprint in it cause me to vomit right there.

I smelled burning cake and walked to the kitchen, first through the dining room. The dining room table was covered in a white lace table cloth. Chairs were knocked over, more handprints on the wall. There was a trail of blood on the floor. In the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room lay the bow gun that Mark had bought for Amber at Christmas that first year, blood smeared on the handle. Stray arrows were strewn across the floor.

I wanted Amber. I wanted her to be standing there with me and I wanted Claudette to be in our arms and I wanted our house to be rid of all this filth. 

The kitchen. So white, so perfect and brilliantly bright. I stepped in, my eyes hurting me at the crimson that covered the floor. A steadily growing red pool came from the other side of the island of counters. The sound of beeping, of a phone off the hook. I think I may have had a small heart attack when I walked over and looked to see the source of this.

The cordless phone was on the floor about a foot away from her hand. 

The blood came from a purple haired woman clutching her stomach. 

"Amber…" I dropped to my knees.


	39. Fire & Ice

**Chapter 39**

I reached over to her, my pants covered in the blood which I was in, hands shaking. I stroked her cheek with the back of my knuckles. She didn't move. I crawled over to her on my hands and knees and took her into my arms, holding her against me, hating the fact that I could feel how cold she was. The tears were streaming down my face without my will, and as I sat there with her in my arms I let out a scream that I'd never heard from myself. I threw back my head and screamed for the Gods to hear, so that they would all know that I was in pain, that I'd been robbed of my light. The roaring died on my voice and turned to sobbing. I ran a hand through her hair. Part of it wasn't wet, and was clean and I could smell her shampoo. The tears burned in my eyes. I leaned down and kissed her lips, tasting her blood in my mouth when I pulled away. 

The crying wouldn't stop as I sat there. Just sitting. Just holding my wife. I rocked back and forth, rubbing her shoulders, feeling her limp in my arms. Her eyes were open, and staring, and yet somehow not empty. Like she was still alive inside her body and could see. 

And then I thought of Claudette. 

I didn't want to drop Amber. I didn't want to leave her there alone, but I knew I had to, and so kissed her forehead before standing and tripping through the house, wondering where my daughter was. I found her within minutes…and she too…was dead…

"Claudette!!" I cried out her name over and over as I picked her up, her tiny body quite like a jointless doll. I was sobbing, absolutely hysterical, holding her close to me. She hadn't been stabbed, but strangled somehow, and a little trickle of blood came from her mouth. I wiped it away with my sleeve and straightened her hair. All the color was drained from her face, and her eyes were closed. She just looked asleep. 

"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I couldn't stop screaming. Just screaming, horrified and terrified. 

I lost it.

Amber was in the kitchen, and I knew that she was still alive. I _knew _that she was in her body. And I wanted her to be with her daughter and with me. I carried Claudette back into the kitchen, my way with her as if she were alive. I gathered Amber in my arms as well, carrying them both into the garage to uncover my motorcycle, the one that Mark had bought for me and that I'd barely used. I opened the garage and began to drive out.

It had started to snow again. As I was leaving my driveway I saw more police cars and an ambulance coming. The officer who'd already been at my house, who, though I hadn't been noticing, apparently was standing beside me the whole time I'd been in my house, ran out onto the yard and called after me but I wouldn't have it as I turned and drove down the road behind my house.

They used salt on the roads to keep the snow from freezing on them. It was natural, and so there wasn't enough snow to keep me from driving. The flakes came down and got in my eyes as I drove up the hill, holding my wife and my daughter, squinting my eyes against the cold and the wind. I was freezing. It was completely too cold to be doing what I was doing but I absolutely did not care. And it didn't matter because I had my wife, and my daughter, and we were going up to our special place.

As I was reaching the top of the mountain I lost control of my bike and it skid off the road. It took me a moment to regain myself and I held them against me again, leaving my bike where it was and climbed up to the road, holding both of them. I could see the steeple through the snow, and fought against the wind as I went up there, finally collapsing and sitting down on the concrete base of the chapel.

"_Kane…what is this? This is so cool."_ I sat there, holding the both of them in each of my arms, my head tilting sideways as I looked at Amber, as her hair fell into her face. Claudette was so clean, such an angel, and appeared to be sleeping. I could hear her laughing, high pitched, pure laughter filling my head.

"Claudette…" I held her close to me, imagining that she was sleeping, that at any moment she'd wake and start to pout because she was still tired. And then Amber would laugh and take her and feed her and then kiss me and we'd talk about how much we loved her. 

But Claudette didn't wake. And Amber didn't sit up to help me. They both just stayed there, motionless, in my arms, in the chapel, which for some reason I thought would cure it all. Claudette's eyes were closed, and a bit bruised. She had those full, round cheeks which only children have, and a soft pink mouth. She was so beautiful. I knew it then, more than I'd ever realized, how incredibly beautiful she was. And she was _my daughter_! She was my own creation, mine and Amber's, something that we had _made_ together, and who had her own life. We'd created another life. And now…

"No!! Wake up, Claudette Pearl," I said sternly, as if she were older, as if I were scolding her. I ran my fingers through her hair. "Wake up…" my voice quieted, taken again my sobs. "Claudette…PLEASE!!!" I was screaming and shaking, yelling not words but just…projecting. "For the love of God Claudette wake the fuck up!" 

Amber's body shifted against me and I looked down at her, my sobbing stopping for a moment, tears still coming. I sniffled. Her eyes had fallen closed. Blood had dried in her hair and a bit had trickled down the side of her face. Snow was in her hair and on her eyelashes, enchantingly beautiful. The blood on her skin was appearing to freeze. I laid her across my lap and gently wiped it away, barely being able to do it. My hands were shaking now from the cold as well, as I sat there, as it snowed. 

"I love you…" I said to her softly. "Amber I love you so much please wake up…" I spoke to her as if my soft words would bring her back, and indeed sat in that chapel as if it could bring her back. I knew that it wasn't true, I knew that it didn't matter what I did. Her body was dead. I couldn't help her.

But her soul was in there, and I knew it. I calmed a little, trying to realize that she didn't have much time and that I needed to be strong for her. The tears still came even though I wasn't sobbing, and I fixed her hair, trying not to look at the large gash in her scalp. I cleaned her face, wiping off the blood. I shifted so that Claudette was sitting down in her lap and no longer in one of my arms. The three of us were together. We were a family. And I wasn't about to let…any DEATH get in the way. Nothing was stronger than my family. I couldn't just let them dying prevent me from being with them.

I know now that I was going crazy at the time. And I remember thinking all of that perfectly logically at the time. But truth is truth, and I _knew_ what I was doing then, just as I know now that I wasn't all there. Or perhaps too much of me was there. I don't know and I don't care to think on it.

Fire. 

I thought of fire. I thought of choking on smoke and not being able to see. I remembered reaching out through the smoke to my mother's voice, feeling her grab my arm and pull me close to her as the flames circled us. I thought of the pain I felt, the burning, the desperation. I thought of the next day when Mark held me in his arms and I couldn't find my mother. I remember finding out that she was dead.

"No!" I screamed. "No I'm not going to lose you, too!!" I screamed and sobbed. I choked on my own tears and coughed violently, feeling as though I would hack up one of my lungs. 

It was then that I heard the cars, and saw the red lights dancing on the trees around me. There were people coming now. Two ambulances and several police cars. People were around me before I had a chance to think, taking them away. I begged them not to, and they tried to get me to go in one ambulance while they put Amber and Claudette in the other. I begged them to let me stay with them and after a few minutes they realized what I was saying and found in their hearts to let me. I couldn't stop shaking. 

I barely remember what happened then. I remember being in the ambulance and crying and ignoring all of them as they put blankets around me and tried to make me warm and were trying to talk to me but I wouldn't listen to them and wouldn't answer them. I remember getting to the hospital a few hours later and not  being able to stop shaking. Then they gave me all kinds of drugs to calm me down and eventually my memory is wiped clear of all that.

That night was spent in the hospital. I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling unbearably empty. I curled up, holding my stomach, beginning to cry again. I wanted my daughter. I wanted my wife.

And I wanted my mask.


	40. Oh the Brotherly Goodness

**Chapter 40**

How long I was laying there awake doesn't matter. It didn't matter to me then, and it doesn't matter to me now. But I know that sometime after the sun had come up, when the tears had run out and my eyes were burning, I still sat there, curled up, like an expressionless zombie, not crying, not doing anything. I wanted them there. I wanted to wake up and have it all be some nightmare. I knew it couldn't be real. 

Someone had come in. I didn't look, I didn't care who they were. They came in and said something about the police finding our pet duck there, and she put Jake down on my bed. 

When I looked over and saw Jake there, shaking as I'd been shaking the night before, I burst into tears again. I think you can never truly run out of tears. I was so happy that he was alive, and so miserable that Claudette and Amber weren't, and so torn with the memories of our first year together, and how we'd come to have Jake.  I reached over and picked him up, holding him against me, crying on him. I didn't care what he thought about it, just wanted to hold onto him because he was all I had left.

Perhaps a half hour later someone knocked at the door. I wanted to stop crying and try to compose myself for whoever it was, but found that I couldn't, and kept sobbing as they opened the door and walked in.

"Kane…" 

I knew the voice. My head snapped up and I saw Mark standing there. He looked years older, creases in his forehead and bags under his eyes. Red rimmed his eyes, as if he'd been crying, and still was a bit, just not as much as I was. He walked over to my bed and sat down, embracing me. I collapsed against him. Jake sat next to me as I clung to my brother, sobbing on him, my head in his lap as he rubbed my arms. 

"Why???" I kept saying over and over. "Why does this shit always happen to me? I never asked for this…"

"I know, Kane, I know…" he would say each time, and push back my hair and rub my back. He was crying too. I knew that he was upset as well, that he and Amber were close, that he must've felt something for his niece, but I was too busy thinking about how miserable _I_ was at the time to give him any comfort. After a couple of hours I calmed down, his clothes covered with my tears, my clothes covered in blood which was not my own. I cleared my head a bit, trying to think.

"Did umm…" every time I stopped crying the tears would come back as soon as I'd try to speak. "Does Raven and Saph know? And Vince?? And…and _Mike_…" I started to sob again. Mark's face contorted horribly. He hugged me again.

"No they don't know yet. I figured I'd tell them later on…but I came to see you first and I'm still here…"

"How'd you know?" I asked him. I didn't look at him, my head against his chest.

"They called me…we have the same last name, you know…"

I tried to breathe, my whole frame shaking. "Yeah…" my hands were trembling. "I…I don't think I can tell them…you have to do it for me…please…" he put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me against him as I cried. 

"Shhh…yeah I'll do it for you," he said quietly. I noticed that the whole time he never told me that anything was going to be alright, and never told me to calm down. It stung me even more because now was almost the exact situation as the morning after the fire, when he'd come to me and held me in his arms, and never said those words, later on explaining that he knew for a fact that he couldn't bring back our mother and it wasn't going to be alright, and that why should I calm down after what just happened? 

It was true. I didn't want to be calm. I didn't want to breathe and be strong. I'd just lost my fucking wife and my daughter. The last thing in my mind was trying to be calm. He slowly pulled away from me and stood, leaving the room. I felt unbearably cold. He was my only family left and I wanted him to be with me. I could hear him on his cell phone in the corridor outside the room.

"Vince? It's Mark…" he gave a short laugh, from what I don't know because I couldn't hear what Vince was saying. "I have some uhh…bad news…" I wished I could hear what he was saying. "I umm, really don't know how to say this…well last night, Amber and Claudette…" I heard his voice catch in his throat. "They were…murdered last night, Vince…" 

For whatever reason, the shock, the loss, that word had never crossed my mind. And as soon as Mark had spoken that word "murdered" it had made perfect sense to me. It was so obvious that they'd been murdered. After a few minutes he came into the room, looking at me with a desperation that made me want to cry more.

"I uh…I don't know how I'm going to tell Saph and Rave…" he sat down on the foot of the bed, placing his hand on my knee. Jake curled up against me. 

My heart throbbed. "Tell them to come here. I'll tell them…but in person…" 

He nodded and went back into the hallway. I didn't care to listen to what he was saying now. My head throbbed from the crying. My stomach hurt from hunger. I wanted to just die. Mark gave me a sad nod as he came back into the room.

"Do you need anything?" he asked me, completely sincere. I felt repulsed as I looked down at my clothes, covered in blood. 

"Could you…go back to my house and get me clothes…?" I asked. I felt horrible sending him there but…I needed it. I needed that from him. I just needed him to be there for me. And he didn't argue with me. Before he walked out of the room I asked him one more think. "And umm…could you get…my mask?" He looked down at the floor as he nodded, 

I was lying in the dark, not crying, just breathing, for a long time. After a while, after I'd really calmed down. Misery swept me, and I was somewhere else in my head. I was laying in the ocean, and floating, and alone. And I was walking across a desert, my destination never getting any closer. I was suspended in the sky, lost in clouds which were frightening and intimidating. I was faced with all this great open things and alone, by myself. 

The hunger was killing me. Only then I tried to calm myself down enough to stand, to take Jake in my arms and leave the room, feeling completely dizzy as I walked aimlessly through the hospital looking for somewhere that I could get food. I kept my hair in my face, ashamed of my appearance, feeling hideous and ugly. I staggered to the elevator and soon found myself in a cafeteria on the first floor. I got a cup of coffee and a sandwich, everything feeling alien in my mouth and as I swallowed, as more tears came to me again. 

Sandwiches…

I didn't want to touch it. I didn't want to think about that day that she and I had gone up to the chapel and then come back and wanted sandwiches. She loved sandwiches. And I did too. And Claudette probably would've, too…I slammed my fist down against the table in anger, dropping the sandwich down and leaning my elbows on the table, holding my head in my hands.

"Bastard…" I mumbled. "Bastard, you goddamned BASTARD!!!" I stood and flipped the table over, storming out of the room with Jake following me. He was so loyal to me, not leaving me though I'd lashed out in anger. I walked down the hallway, not knowing where I was, stopping and pulling at my hair, punching the wall and yelling again in anger. I sat down on a couch in the hallway. Jake flapped up and sat down in my lap. His eyes stared into mine. I actually felt a little better and rubbed his neck.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Jake…" I sighed and stroked his feathers. "You saw him, didn't you, Jake? You saw that fuckin prick…" I didn't know if he knew what I was saying to him, but I didn't care. I needed someone to vent to. And Jake was making me feel better, being there with me. He sat and cuddled against me. "I love you, Jake…and I'm going to find the guy who did this. And I'm going to kill him."


	41. Kane Doesn't Know

Heheheheheheheheeeeeey!!! XD XD I'm so sorry to have not been updating. ::kicks computer:: I can't get online…right now I'm using my mom's computer and she barely lets me on it so I'm doing my best! :) So umm…yeah. I just wanted to say hi to all my duckies ((Saph, Glenn, Matt, Kazaa, Amber, Lea, Lady Charlotte, and Kitten…and everyone else- I love all of you, its not a popularity contest to be mentioned you know who you are ;) )) and I'll be back online as soon as I can. Hmph. It's sad, too, cause I have up to chapter 47 written. Hehe… ::cackles evilly::

Damn…you guys will hate me for this chapter ::giggles:: Here you are-

**Chapter 41**

Mark arrived back later that day with a suitcase full of my things. It struck me when I opened it and smelled Amber…I could smell her perfume and it killed me. I changed into clean clothes, sitting there and holding the blood stained shirt in my hands for a while. I didn't know how long I'd be in the hospital, and as morbid as it was, and as much as it pained me to think, it wasn't like they were going to get better…so I really didn't even know why I was there other than the fact that I had no intention of going back to my house. 

I looked down into the suitcase, staring at the leather wrestling mask. It had been more than that…and now as more than that. I picked it up, feeling my heart quicken, my hands shaking a little as I reached around and put it on. It felt like I hadn't done this in such a long time…when in truth I'd put it on almost every night to wrestle…but that was just to wrestle. As for just then I really just wanted it to hide myself. It was something I hadn't done literally in a few years, but that seemed so much longer…

As I sat there I touched it with my hand, just sitting there, feeling the leather and feeling strangely comforted by it. The door opened just then and I looked up to see Raven. His face was pale and looked completely horrified, as did Saphrin. Neither Evan or Sugarbear were with them and I didn't bother to ask where they were as I didn't care to know just then. The moment I looked at them I began to cry again, the mask covering it. I loved my mask.

Saphrin came over and sat down next to me, holding me, though I knew that she had no idea what it was about, only she could tell that I was upset. Raven shifted.

"What happened?" he asked. His eyes were locked on the shirt which I'd discarded to the floor, the one with blood on it. He leaned against the wall. I cleared my throat and tried to breathe.

"I really don't…know how to tell you…" I said slowly, my voice cracking. I took a deep breath and held my head in my hands.

Saphrin rubbed my arm. "Just say it…"

"Alright…" I burst into tears, and Saphrin stared at me wide eyed. I sobbed, hugging myself and curling up again. When Saphrin was trying to comfort me I stood up abruptly. I looked at Mark. I could barely speak. "I can't…" I pushed past him and out of the room, staying outside the door and leaning against the wall. I slid down and sat there, hugging my knees, my head down and staring at the tiles. I could hear Mark's voice very softly flowing out of the room.

"I'm really sorry, I've never had to say something like this to someone before…but I have to. You see how Kane is, I can't just make him do this…you guys…" he took a long pause and a shaking breath. While it hurt me more, it comforted me just slightly to hear that he was also upset. "Amber is dead. So is Claudette…they were…murdered…"

Before anything else I heard Saphrin cry out. It was horrible, and caused my chest to tighten. And silence, complete silence from Raven. I took a moment before walking back into the room, nearly tackled by Saphrin as she rushed to me and threw her arms around me and cried onto my chest. I hugged her, and cried also, not some much vocally because I wanted to be strong for her. I looked up at Raven.

The back of his hand covered his mouth, and he seemed frozen in his place, eyes wide and staring at me with shock and horror and incredulity. Without blinking the tears just began to pour from his eyes, running down his cheeks, the tears bringing a vibrant gold from eyes which were normally deep brown. My heart was completely broken. His hand trembled, and he moved it away from him as if to speak, but no sound came from his moving lips. He came over to us and joined our tragic hug, Mark just slumping down onto the bed away from all of us and sobbing himself. It was so horrible. 

"Kane…" Raven said weakly, his crying now going from silent to audible, gasping between sobs, trying to speak. "I…the feud…" 

I frowned. I wiped the tears from my eyes in an attempt to focus my vision as I looked at him. He fell back now against the wall, falling to sit on the floor, arm covering his face. Saphrin pulled away from me to go sit with him, and I felt terribly cold without her. I wrapped my arms around myself and stumbled backward, leaning against the wall opposite them. Raven was absolutely hysterical, the way I had been the night before and that morning until I'd simply worn myself out. He was shaking, hands covering his face, voice all strung out between his wails and sounding like a child. Saphrin calmed herself only to hold him, on her knees, wrapping her arms around him and trying to soothe him and rock back and forth slowly, the whole while the tears streaming down her face. Mark looked at them with a somber and understanding regard, as if he knew what Raven had been about to say. I didn't doubt it because of his power, but Saphrin seemed to know as well.

My heart began to pound, slow and increasing, thudding in my ears. I shook as I looked at the three of them, knowing that they all knew something that I didn't. 

"You…what is it that you aren't t-telling me?" I asked, my voice stuttering as it had when I was a child.  Saphrin, her eyes red, looked up at Mark, her face twisted into horrible misery.

"He doesn't know?" she asked, her voice riding on sobs. Mark shook his head slowly. 

"No…she didn't get time to tell him I guess…" he said softly. He reached up and covered his eyes, his shoulders shaking. I knew his turn to break down was now. He wept bitterly, pulling at his hair and rocking back and forth. I looked to Raven to see that he was staring at me, the same silence coming over him again.

When he spoke I began to hyperventilate. I grabbed at my head and at my chest, Saphrin rushing back to me and holding me and telling me to calm down. Raven just looked on, miserable, and never had I seen anyone looking more hurt. Not even sweet Kitten that day that I'd come to her. He was completely shattered. 

I saw spots, felt that horrible feeling you get right before you black out. I couldn't believe the words I'd just heard, the one's that had tormented Raven's face as he spoke:

"Kane…the feud we planned wasn't true, it was a trick, so that you wouldn't find out…" he paused, the latter part of the statement choking him. "She wanted you, for your anniversary, to know that she was pregnant…"


	42. Could this story GET any sadder? Read an...

Alright yous…hmph I miss you all. ::sighs:: Here you are…also hahahahah I wrote a Hey Arnold fanfic cause I got bored…I incorporated wrestling into it (of course) haha and I'm going to post it under my Gwenny the Penny name…hahah. I wrote more to Mythica and for some reason I don't feel comfortable posting it. I don't know why, but I trust my instincts so I'm going to hold off on it for a while. Sorry, but the Gwennicane has internal conflicts to settle. ;) 

Oh, and to keep you updated on the Gwenamania, I have a new muse. Actually I got a Jeff Hardy muse right before my computer stopped working so not many people know it yet haha. But my new muse, who I acquired like four days ago, is Ex-Lieutenant Billy Coen from the new Resident Evil 0 game. I'm in love with him and he makes me want to write screenplays haha. So with that said, if I write some RE fanfiction or a fanfic in a screenplay form sometime soon…don't be surprised.

Alright I'll stop talking now hahaha. Now go read about Kaney and cry. :P

**Chapter 42**

I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think. I wasn't receptive to anything, allowing myself to be led around by Mark and by doctors who were worried about my mental and emotional stability. I knew what was going on but ignored it all. Mark spoke for me, he knew what I would've said, perhaps just from being close or perhaps from just reading it from my mind. I couldn't tell and didn't want to know, just didn't care. All I knew was that I'd been robbed of my wife and my daughter and my unborn son. It would've been a boy. Amber had known it the same way that she'd know Claudette would be a girl. Claudette Pearl Callaway…I felt my body shaking as the name played itself in my head. 

Tears failed me for the time. They did nothing and I couldn't even produce them. My eyes must've been red and swollen, they felt that way, though I never brought myself to a mirror. I just wore my mask, not caring how ridiculous it seemed and must've looked. I just wore it, and felt it protecting me.

By night I was out of the hospital, absently staring out the window of Mark's car. I didn't know where he was taking me. I didn't care, and I didn't want to know, and I wanted to just go home and be with Amber and Claudette and…would his name have been Armand? Amber had been very fond of that name. Also the name Erick…incredible anger surged through me as I imagined having a son, having two children…retiring, living at the house and not the apartment because of the yard, having a swing set in the back, having Claudette and Armand playing. And Amber and I could've just watched them…or played with them. And perhaps Raven and Saphrin would come over and Evan could join them, along with any others that they may have come across.

I could just see it in my head…the kids all playing outside or in the house or somewhere off by themselves while all the adults sat together and talked about wrestling or something. It almost would make me smile.

But whenever I began to smile I would just think of being in the kitchen, looking down to see Amber laying there, eyes open, empty, the blood slowly growing around her. There had been so much blood…it made me sick to think of someone breaking into the house and bludgeoning her to death…it made me angry and confused and horrified, knowing that I didn't know who did it and that whoever it was…was still out there somewhere. It filled me with hatred.

Mark and I were in the car for a few hours. He was talking to me. I only caught pieces of what he said. I think he only spoke so that I knew he was there, because he was smart enough to know that if it were something important he wouldn't tell me when I couldn't pay attention. The whole while the radio was on, some rock station of sorts, shifting through the times and genres of rock the whole while we drove, from Slayer to Creed, Pantera to Linkin Park. None of it bothered me until into my ears came a familiar drum beat and then guitar tune. My head snapped up and stared at the buttons for the radio in horror. Mark noticed and asked me what was wrong, somewhat frightened himself.

I had  nearly punched it to turn it off before the lyrics had started. _Judith_ by A Perfect Circle…

"What?? What was that?" Mark looked from me to the road and back frantically. Slowly I turned my head up to him, speaking for the first time in nearly ten hours.

"A…A Perfect Circle…" I said softly. My voice sounded completely defeated, as I truly was. Mark's green eyes widened and searched me. I sighed and took a deep breath, calmer than I'd been since this had happened. "I was umm…listening to them…when I came home last night…"

He looked like he'd been struck and about to cry, turning back to the road and focusing on it now. He said nothing, out of respect or shock or something, I didn't know. 

"I was listening to _Breña_…and I saw the red lights…and I was so shocked that I didn't turn the car off and I could hear it playing while I was walking through the house," I felt the tears rising in my eyes, and so exhausted was I that I couldn't cry even then, just have them sit there and sting. "Mark…I never want to listen to that band again."

"Alright Kane," he said softly, still not looking at me. He ran a hand through his hair, his breathing uneven as if he were hesitating saying something. "I'm…so sorry that this had to happen to you, Kane…I mean…" I saw the tears coming from his eyes. He reached up and wiped them away. "I don't know why this shit always happens to us."

_Us_. I smiled bitterly from beneath the mask. He sniffled and rubbed his face with one of his hands. 

"We lost our parents and our childhood and lost each other time and time again and now to lose them…" he took in a shaking breath. "I know that you're weak, and I am too, and I just want you to know that I'm here for you and that you're not the only one hurting. I want to know if you can be there for me, too. We're brothers, Kane. We define each other's lives. We have to help each other out on this."

I nodded slowly. "I'm here for you, Mark," I said. My voice was so quiet I could barely hear it myself. He reached over and rubbed my shoulder.

"This will all get better, I promise. There's nowhere to go but up from here…"

I nodded. "I love you, Mark. I always have. That last thing I need to lose right now is you…"

"And you won't."

The rest of the way to where we were going he was trying to cheer me up, talking about random things that had always been jokes between us and things that had nothing to do with Amber or anything to make me sad. I even laughed at some points. In less than an hour he parked in front of a hotel, getting my bag for me and bringing me up to a suite. I was completely grateful, and thanked him and hugged him before going to take a shower. 

The hot water calmed my nerves a little. It made my heart pound but calm, made my body relax a bit. It's that universal feeling, after crying, as you relax, when you can feel in your heart in your throat, and feeling nothing but your heart blundering and pumping every time you breathe. In truth I really was too exhausted to cry anymore, and actually was trying to rationalize with myself some way for me to be happy. It didn't work enough to actually be happy but enough that I was calmer. 

Mark had gone out while I'd showered and bought junk food, and rented movies. He'd rented _Mallrats_, _Jerky Boys_, and _BASEketball_, and a movie called _Big Money Hu$tlas_, which I'd never seen but he told me that Saphrin had asked him to pick it up. She and Raven arrived there a little while later with Evan and Sugarbear, and Jake, and laughed and were kindly and not reminding me or each other of what had happened. And as nice as they were being, and as fun a time they we were trying to give each other, it was empty and morbid that two of our crew were missing, and I don't think I was the only person who saw this.

Dead laughter came from us as the movies played. We all thought they were funny, and tried to be happy, and it wasn't working. And in the long run, had someone come in they'd think we were enjoying ourselves, when really each of us were only pretending, and we all knew it and didn't want to face the truth. It was terrible and morbid and aching. None of us wanted to think about Amber or Claudette, or me, falling with the tragedy into a self-pitying mess. 

During the middle of _BASEketball_, I remembered with shock that no one had told Mike about what had happened. I sat up quickly from the bed and cursed out loud, feeling the tears rise in my eyes as everyone looked at me. I told them and then stepped into the living room of the suite, sitting down at a desk in the corner and staring at the phone for a while. I held my head in my hands, listening to the soft speaking from the other room. I wondered what they were talking about and tried to listen, not being able to pick up any words.

After a while, hands shaking, I finally picked up the phone and dialed his number. It was around ten o'clock at night, and he sounded angry when he answered the phone, like it was too late to be getting a call. I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Who the hell is calling me this late?" he asked angrily. It was almost funny that he'd answered that way. I almost laughed. Instead I just took a deep breath and tapped the edge of the desk nervously.

"Umm…Mike?" 

He laughed softly. "Hey, Kane! How are you guys?? I haven't heard from you in a while. How are you? How's Claudette and that beautiful daughter of mine?" My heart ached. 

"I…have some bad news, Mike…" I felt horrible. It broke my heart to have to tell him, and I sympathized. I'd lost my mother and my father and now my wife and children. And now I was telling him that he'd lost his daughter, too…and his wife was gone as well. I closed my eyes, refusing to break down over the phone.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. He sounded concerned but not worried.

"Not…really…you'd better sit down."

"Alright…" he sounded almost cynical. "Kane, what's this all about?"

"Well, Mike…last night, I had to go out to get some groceries, and Amber and Claudette stayed home…and when I came home there was a police car outside-"

"Oh my god…"

"I'm not finished," I said softly. "Mike, I'm really sorry that I have to tell you this, but I'd rather tell you than have you read it in the newspaper or see it on TV or something…but…" I paused. I heard him taking in a quick breath. "I know you lost Lydia, and I know that you were very struck by it, and I wish this hadn't happened but it has. But…Amber is dead. So is Claudette…I'm so sorry, Mike. And I mean that, I know how you feel, don't tell me that I don't. We've both lost our wives and our daughters and I wanted to tell you before you had the chance to hear it any other way. I'm so fucking sorry…but it's…it's the reality…"

For a long time he didn't say anything. I began to cry again, silently, and I wasn't wearing the mask at the time because I was in private, so I was able to wipe them away with the back of my hand, shuddering when I felt my skin. After a few minutes I spoke.

"Are you there?" I asked him. His answer was very blunt and hard sounding.

"Were they in any pain?" I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, trying to keep my heart from pounding so hard. 

"They were murdered…" I said softly. "I think that Claudette was strangled or suffocated somehow, but Amber…" I coughed, trying to keep the sobbing down. "There was obviously a fight…"

I could hear him crying. "I'm sorry, too, Kane," he said. "When is the funeral?" he asked. It hit me like a punch. 

"It hasn't been arranged yet…but I'll let you know as soon as I can," I told him. In truth it hadn't even crossed my mind. I felt weighed down by the responsibility. 

"Alright…"

"Is ummm…" I choked on the words. "Was Lydia buried? Amber never told me…"

"Yeah…there's a cemetery a few miles from here…Amber went there a lot when she was little but after she met you she told me that…" he sobbed. "She said that she was in love, that she loved you the moment she met you…and that everything was perfect and that Lydia knew it and she didn't need to talk to a grave, that Lydia was with her."

I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling and pulled at a strand of my hair. "Do you think they should be buried in the same cemetery?"

He sighed. "Yes, I think she'd appreciate it."

"How should I arrange it?" I asked him.

"No…don't worry about it, Kane," he said softly. "I'll take care of it."

"Mike, that isn't necessary…"

"Yes, Kane, it is. I don't see why you should have to be put through any more of this than you already have."

"No, Mike," I said, flat out arguing with him. "It's not right for people to have to bury their children and I'm not just going to let you take responsibility on this!"

"You lost your daughter, too," he said hotly. "Why should it be different? Amber is _my_ daughter! And I already lost my wife and I want things to be perfect for them."

I sighed. "Can we not argue about this? Listen, Mike, you've gone through this once already and I don't want you to go through it again," I was crying this whole time, hiding it in my voice but the tears coming anyway. To be arguing with Amber's father only made it worse. "We're both in the same position here, Mike. And even though it's a task and probably neither of us want to  be burdened with it, it is something that they'd want us to take care of. It's our chance to show them that we care. Let's not argue about it…"

"Alright…I'm sorry that I got angry. Alright how about…" he groaned. "Can their umm…their…_bodies_ be sent here and then we can work everything out together? And you can stay with me if you don't want to be at the apartment." 

It shocked me how he'd almost read my mind, that he knew I was hesitant about being at the apartment. I credited this to the fact that he'd lost his wife as well. "Sure…"

"Give me the number of the hospital and I'll set it up. When can you be here?" 

"Tomorrow?" 

"Alright."

I gave him the name of the hospital, admitting that I didn't know the number and he understood completely. A moment of silence passed between us. "I'm sorry, Mike," I said again.

"I'm sorry, also. You're right, you know how I feel, and I know how you feel. And I really am sorry, Kane…"

"Yeah…"

Neither of us said goodbye and both hung up the phone at the same time. I felt terrible and aching as I pushed myself up and walked back into the bedroom. Saphrin was just putting on the _Big Money Hu$tlas_ movie, and it was hilarious, and I understood then why Raven had named the frog Sugarbear. But still I couldn't laugh. Instead I just stared, trying to concentrate on the movie. When it had ended and Mark had started to put in _Mallrats_ I told him to stop, telling them that I was tired and wanted to sleep. All of them nodded, tears rising in each of their eyes, and they all silently left me. 

Jake got up on the bed with me. I curled up, staring at the ceiling. It was so dark and silent, choking. I hugged myself, feeling miserable and lonely as I fell asleep.


	43. Sweet Revelation

**Chapter 43**

Someone was knocking on the door. I woke up, looking around to see that I was in my house. I frowned and stood, looking out the window. It was snowing. The room was dark, the only light coming through the window from the porch light and the faint glow of a digital clock. The stereo in the living room was blasting A Perfect Circle. I staggered through the dark to the door, feeling for the doorknob and opening the door, stepping into the hallway. The lights in the house were off as I walked into the living room.

"Who the hell is here?" I asked. I got no response. The song _Thinking of You_ played, the music making me feel disoriented and nauseous as it swelled in my ears. I entered the living room, the moment my hand touching the light switch the chorus of the song coming on and plaguing me, laughing at me.

"_Sweeeeeeet revelation….Sweeeet surrender…"_ I gasped as I saw the blood all around, the room nearly painted red. Claudette sat on the floor, giggling, playing with toy blocks which were dripping with blood and that were charred black underneath that. Her eyes were bruised and her hair tangled. I ran to her, dropping to my knees and trying to knock the blocks out of her hands. She looked up at me, her eyes bright and green, brilliant from the dark bruises around them. I was horrified.

"Claudette!" I said out loud, not yelling it, necessarily, just saying it, observing. I took the slapped the blocks away from her so that they fell to the other side of the room. She started to cry. "Shh…shh Claudette calm down," I said to her. I reached for her, taking her in my arms. Her cried turned to some horrible roaring. I reached up to wipe a tear from her round cheek, frightened horrifically by her cries. The moment my hand contacted her cheek, her face crumbled.

Her cheek collapsed, and her nose, and her lips pulled back so that I could see her teeth all shattering and blood spewing up from the back of her throat. The screaming ensued as her eyes turned red and leaked from her head, as her skin turned gray and her limbs began to fall off. I screamed now as well, joining her, and dropped what was left of her to the floor. When she hit the floor she disintegrated, body turning to dust. 

I was too shocked to scream, or to do anything but just stare, trying to breathe. My breathing was shaking and my hands trembled as I stared at it, and as the song changed to _3 Libras_. I covered my ears, screaming and walking over to the stereo, turning it off. The music only got louder. I kicked it and pulled the cord out of the wall, taking Amber's sword from where it hung on the wall in display and beginning to smash it. It mocked me as the violin's came and swept up the music, dancing, beautiful. I cursed at it and smashed the stereo as it broke into pieces just like Claudette, the music only getting louder all the while. My ears began to bleed.

The blood ran down my neck and onto my bare chest as I ran into the bathroom, getting bandages and tissues and whatever I could find to wipe it away. It gushed, flowed down my body and my attempts to make it stop were in vain. I stepped into the shower to wash it off, finding that blood came from the faucet as well. I screamed now, and ran out of the bathroom in horror. I ran through the living room and into the kitchen, throwing open the backdoor and walking through to find myself in Paul's basement.

My heart felt like it would explode. I could hear him yelling at Mark upstairs, and I ran up them to get there, to know what was happening. I trying to open the door, hearing the sound of a slap and then hearing Mark scream. I pounded on the door, trying to get it to open. 

Then came the crying. I heard crying, I heard Paul yelling and Mark running up the stairs to his room, the stairs directly above where I stood, and I heard Amber crying. She was sobbing for me.

"Kane!! Kane where are you!?!? Help me, Kane, don't let this happen to me!!"

"AMBER!!!!" I pounded frantically on the door, shaking the doorknob and trying to open it. "Amber I'm here!!!" I screamed.

"Kaaaaaaaneee…" she was sobbing. "No!! No stop it! Don't hurt Claudette!" she screamed. And then I heard the sound something contacting a skull and her blood curling scream, and then the morbid sound of her body thudding against the floor.

"AMBER!!!!!" I screamed. Finally I kicked the door open, and it flew off the hinges. The house was charred and dusty, burned. I was in Paul's home no longer but in the funeral parlor I'd lived in with my parents. I ran through it, screaming for her, crying. I felt horrible pain ripping through my face, the thing I'd felt when I'd been burned. 

I saw the doors of the viewing room, where wakes were held. The doors were shining and perfect. I burst through them. 

Everything was set up, the chairs, the flowers. I looked up to the pedestal where the casket would sit. 

"Amber…" 

She was lying on it, without a casket, in her wedding dress. I fell calm and slowly walked over to her. Her hair was curled, and clean, and resting on her shoulders, eyes closed and pale. Her hands were folded over her chest. I stood over her, staring down in shock. "Amber…" I said again. I reached up and gently touched her cheek.

Her eyes opened. 

I woke up with a start, my heart pounding. I was covered in sweat. 

The hotel room was empty. I looked out the window to see that it was snowing again. I swallowed and tried to calm myself. I was shaking. Jake was awake and came over to me, trying to comfort me. The moment I looked at him I began to cry. 

It was only the first of many nightmares. The rest of that night I didn't go back to sleep.


	44. A Face from the Past

Ooh yeah. XD XD Hi duckies. Sorry for taking so long. My computer STILL isn't goddamn fixed. ::pouts:: but this is a kinda long chapter so maybe that makes you feel better…currently I'm working on chapter 50. When I get the chance I'll post the rest of what I have. Until then- enjoy what you have. XD Chapter 44 

The next morning, when I'd decided to stop laying there awake and get dressed, the phone rang. Thinking it was Mark I didn't answer it formally.

"Yeah?" I asked into it. 

"Mr. Callaway?" 

I was taken back. "Oh sorry…yeah this is. You can call me Kane…" I hated being called Mr. Callaway. It reminded me of my father, or of Mark.

"Well Kane, I'm a detective. I've been assigned to investigate the murder of your family…" I cringed at how impersonal it was. 

"Alright…"

"I need to ask you some questions, would you like to meet me for lunch?"

I sighed. "Yeah…sure."

He said to meet him at the hospital at noon and I hung up the phone feeling uneasy. Not nervous, necessarily, but uneasy. I didn't want to have to deal with any of this. 

I explained everything to Mark and the fact that he'd brought me here and I didn't know where we were, so he gave me his car keys and told me how to get back to the hospital. When the time came I did, and met the guy where he told me to meet him. I didn't bother wearing a mask because I knew how silly it would be to meet a detective.

He was taller than average but I still looked down at him. He reached out to shake my hand when we met, and I could see in his cold eyes that he sympathized, though he still had to do his job. Before we left for the lunch itself he asked if I would mind coming to look at their bodies. I didn't want to, but I kept thinking of revenge, of killing whoever did this, and so wanted to cooperate.

His name was James. He had short brown hair and a goatee, and round eyes. He appeared to be very friendly, though he had a callousness to him. I credited it to his job. 

"Have you filled out any police reports?" he asked me. We were on an elevator going down to the basement morgue. 

"No…"

"Well you need to, so I'll give you all that stuff in a little while. Why don't you tell me what happened?" the elevator stopped and he stepped out. I followed him down a corridor of linoleum and into a the morgue itself. There were two separate autopsy rooms on either side of it, but all the vaults were in this place. He nodded to the security guard as we went inside, standing in front of the metal drawers. Before he opened them he asked me to tell him what happened, and I told him how I'd gone out to go shopping and how I'd come home. I left out the part about how I'd freaked out because I knew that he already knew, and I didn't feel that I had the strength to tell him. I just told him the basics. I came home, found them dead. That's it. He nodded slowly. 

"Are you ready?" he asked. I sighed and nodded, and he pulled open two of them, next to each other. I felt winded when I saw them.

They weren't clean, still covered in blood. I began to cry. My head tilted to the side as I looked at Claudette.

She was damned little…and dead. Her skin was so unnaturally colored, and the bruises were grayish and disgusting. Her eyes were closed and her hair messed up. I noticed some small bruises on her neck as well. 

Claudette was two years old. Killed on her birthday. Tears ran down my face. Here I was, constantly miserable because my life was so damned long and horrible, and complaining. And there was Claudette, not given a chance. I suddenly hated myself for all of it. I reached over and ran my fingers through her hair, frightened for a moment that she would break like she had in my dream. James put his hand on my shoulder, straying from the way he'd been acting and showing a sign of compassion. I took in a shaking breath and turned to Amber…my Amber…

Of course I loved them both, and loved them infinitely, but Amber…it hurt me so much more because I knew her. I don't mean to belittle what I felt for Claudette at all, because each of them struck me equally, but Amber…I had so many memories with her. And so many…things. Like in public, the way I could look through a group of people and just know it was her instantly when I saw her purple hair. The way she was so much smaller than I was, and the way we held each other when we slept. The way she laughed at me when I was confused and then would hug me. The way she'd pout when she was frustrated. The way she could play with Claudette or Jake for hours and hours and never get bored. The way she jumped when I tickled her. The way she laughed and laughed and laughed at movies. Her slight accent, her intense eyes. How her hair would shift when she looked up at me. The way all of these things I loved, and the way I would never know them again.

"Amber…" I said softly. I slipped her hand into mine, hating the way that it was cold. Her nails were painted. She was so fucking beautiful, and for that I was miserable. I squeezed her hand before letting it go, my fingers trailing over to her stomach. Our son…my jaw was trembling. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, my tears splashing onto her face. I was struck by the way they just sat there on her face, with no one to wipe them away. So I did. 

I hated it so much, that she was dead. I sobbed as I looked between the two of them. 

It wasn't fair. I had loved them so much. And anyone who reads this will know how much I fucking loved the both of them, how much I worshipped Amber and how much I adored Claudette and the way I would've done anything for them. I realized, though, that no, I wouldn't have given my life for them. I'd rather die with them. I'd rather have been dead just then, than be alive without them. And that is why I realized that I'd rather not give my life for someone else. It killed me to think of Amber in my situation, staring down at the body of her husband.

So many people say that. They say "I'd give my life for you" and they don't know what it means. I bet half the people that say that have never lost someone they loved. And of course it sounds selfish, but it's true. Rather than take death from Amber I'd rather take pain. I can't bear the thought of her being as miserable as I was. 

I didn't want to leave them alone. At the same time I wanted to be as far away from it as possible, not their bodies necessarily but the truth. I wished it wasn't happening, that they were alive, that none of this was true. And I knew it was. James slowly closed the shelves without my say so, tearing them away from me. I choked on my tears as they were consumed my darkness and then gone. He brought me out into the corridor, patiently and respectfully allowing me to compose myself before we went back upstairs. We went out to his car and to a diner. He paid for lunch. 

While we ate we just chatted. He was polite to not talk about Amber, instead making conversation about wrestling, about how it's all carried out and all that. None of what we talked about involved Amber or Claudette until we finished eating. He reached into a briefcase he'd brought with him and placed an 8x10 photograph on the table. I cringed.

It was my dining room wall, I could tell by the chandelier than hung in front of it and by the painting on the wall. It was a print of Flaming June (detail) by Lord Leighton Frederic. Amber loved it. There were two bow gun bolts sticking out of the wall. 

"Notice anything strange?" he asked me. I sighed. 

"Umm…the bolts in the wall?" I said, almost sarcastically. He placed another picture in front of me, a picture of the bow gun itself.

"Look, Kane," he said, pointing to the picture. "This gun, the one that Amber had, holds three bolts in it."

"Yeah?"

"Look…" he said, pointing to the ones sticking out of the wall. "Obviously this was shot during the fight. Pardon my saying, but Claudette didn't do it and the duck sure as hell didn't. No wounds on Amber match the arrowheads on these bolts, as you saw all of her wounds were bruises and scratches, and then the blows to the head. You're daughter was strangled. And the third bolt is nowhere to be found."

"What are you getting at?" I felt aching rise in my head and rubbed at my temples.

"Whoever did this, whoever attacked your wife, was hit by one of these arrows, and didn't leave it around for forensics. So right now that's what we're going to look for…blood, you know? It's going to be difficult, because as you saw, there was a lot of blood anyway, but we're going to see what we can do. It's unlikely, but that's our biggest clue right now to how to go about this."

I nodded slowly, staring down at the bow gun and at the bolts sticking out of the wall. Hatred rose in me. "I understand," I said to him.

"I need to know if there was anyone that either of you have made enemies with lately that would do something like this…" he said. "I'm sure we would be able to get more out of this if the evidence hadn't been…tampered with before we got there…" he gave me a solemn look. My jaw dropped at the darkness that rode in his expression.

"Oh my_ God_," I said, "you're not going to go say that I'm the one that did this, are you? That's complete bullshit!" Tears rose again. He nodded.

"Calm down, Kane, I didn't say that…"

"I know you were thinking it, James."

He sighed. "Fine…the deal is that because this is so open we're going to be looking at every possible scenario. But person to person you're right, but I really don't think you did this because I can tell by the way you speak of them. But…you know…" he leaned back in the diner booth. "So can you think of anyone?"

"Yeah…" I said softly. "Well…there's this guy Paul Bearer…he took care of my brother and I after our parents died and he provoked our friend Scott to attempt suicide…and shortly after that Scott's wife, Debby, assaulted him. I haven't spoken to him since…and then there's this girl named Kitten who kind of freaked out a few months ago when she visited us…I don't know that she's angry and I honestly don't think she would do this but I have a feeling that she knew it would happen. And then…" I took a shaking breath. "There's always…Amber's ex-boyfriend, who left her the night that she and I met. His name is John…" 

"Would there be any of your friends or other wrestlers who might have a grudge against you?"

"I don't…think so…" I said. "I mean…Scott got into an argument with Hunter Helmsley a few months ago but they made up like three nights later…and I know Hunter and I really don't think that he would _ever_ do something like this, _especially_ after some stupid fight about cookies or something. And if that were the case, it wouldn't be me effected by it…"

James nodded something and scribbled down all the names I'd mentioned, writing and underlining above the list "Question". He sighed and capped his pen, dropping it on the table. "There's another possibility…" he said.

"Yes?"

"Do you think it's at all possible that this could have been some crazed fanatic? I mean you and Amber are both famous wrestlers, even Claudette and the duck have made appearances on television, too."

I was shocked into silence, considering this and falling quiet for a few minutes while I thought. "I really don't think something like that would happen…I mean it's highly uncommon and in the main, people normally like us. Both of our characters were faces, so I don't think that anyone who could take wrestling seriously enough to kill them would think that we were evil or something." I felt like I was going to cry again. He sighed.

"Alright…well that's all I need to know for now. I'll keep you updated on what's going on."

I didn't say goodbye to him, just got up and walked out of the diner. He followed me, asking me if I wanted a ride back to the hospital where my car was parked, but I waved him off, saying that I needed to be by myself and think, that I'd get a taxi. Reluctantly he agreed and left. I sat down on a bench on the side of the road. I felt very lonely and horrible. 

"Kane? Oh my god is that really you?" I looked up to see a very familiar face. I gasped.

"Becky!" I stood and hugged her. "Damn this is…strange. Do you live here?" I asked her. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah…" she said slowly. "I moved here a few months ago." 

She had really grown into her features.

"Damn how old are you now?" she smiled. 

"I'm almost twenty," she said. Her expression darkened. "I uh…I saw the paper, today," she said. My heart throbbed. "I'm…really sorry, Kane," her eyes glazed over. "For what it means I feel it, too. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I was crying all morning."

"Well what are you doing out here?" I asked her, changing the subject. She groaned and looked up at the diner. 

"I work there. I live down the street, so I just walk to work…" she looked down. "I don't feel up to working though, I'm thinking of blowing it off. Do you want to come over for a while?"

"Sure…" I followed her to her house. It was small, but nice. I asked her what had become of Glenn and Kitten. She brought me into the kitchen and made coffee, bringing me into the living room and sitting down on couches.

"Well…I haven't talked to Kitten in a while. I mean…we were really close but she started getting all weird all the time and we haven't really talked to each other since I moved here. Glenn I've kept in touch with though…we dated for a little while last year. He's in an independent federation…keeps traveling all around New England trying to get discovered. I kept telling him that he should give you a call but he's too polite to do it…"

I nodded. "I'll definitely help him out," I said. "About Kitten…I talked to her a few months ago, you know. She called me and was hysterical so I drove out to get her and then she came to an event, met Mark and freaked out and left. I don't know what was wrong with her…"

"Well she's psychic, you know…"

"Yeah I know. I don't know why she freaked out though."

"She has dreams a lot, and they're usually nightmares, and she always got really scared by them. I remember when that happened, you know. She told me. She had a horrible dream that you were cutting your wrists and that you were setting things on fire. And usually when she has dreams, when she doesn't tell anyone about them they come true…and she told me and then got all worried about you and called you…"

"Why didn't she tell me?"

Becky frowned. "I don't know. Maybe she didn't want to upset you. But she told me and then she freaked out and got really worked up and upset about you. She cared about you, ya know? And truthfully, that might have been the worst dream I've seen her have. Because normally she'll get a little edgy and she'd tell me about them and they'd be nothing, but this one really scared the hell out of her. And it was a lot darker than the ones she normally has."

I felt my stomach turning. "Yeah…" I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Becky looked like she was going to cry, and I felt like I was going to cry again. My body ached for Amber. I missed her. I felt lonely and hated and unloved and cold. I looked up at Becky. I took her into my arms, a soft, warm hug. She cried, I cried. For a long time we were like that.


	45. She Was My Friend, Too

Hi ducks! :P :P :P I started this story about a year ago…hahaha. Isn't that funny??? :P :P And here's like…a little "fun fact" if you will…Jake, Raven, and Saphrin, weren't in my original plan for the story ((which I'm still sticking to by the way, all of this was planned out a year ago)) and my brother helped me come up with the title hahaha. :P :P So here you go. Enjoy. Chapter 45

Becky drove me back to the hospital so that I could get to my car. I asked for her phone number, saying that I'd call her with funeral arrangements. As I drove back I thought about her. I thought about Amber.

Becky made me feel better. I felt drawn to her and blessed that things had been so strange, that we'd just happened upon each other. For some reason I felt that she somehow would be able to heal me. I loved her. And I missed Amber. At one point on the drive back I had to pull over because I couldn't see the road through my tears. I sat in the car, breathing, holding my head, every attempt to stop the tears only making them come more. And the silence killed me, the way I was scared of hearing _Judith_ and didn't want to risk turning on the radio. But the crying was so hollow, and made me feel so pathetic as it filled my ears. I loathed the situation.

Finally I turned the radio on, wincing as the music came into focus in my ears. _Spit it Out_ by Slipknot. The heaviness of the song calmed me, and I felt myself relax slightly.

"Breathe, Kane…" I said to myself. I leaned my elbows on the steering wheel, running my hands in my hair, letting the music calm me. And it did, and my sobbing slowed and came to an end. I sighed as I began to drive again, trying not to think of Amber or Claudette or blood or murder or anything involving them.

It was a hard thing to do.

Understand that save for a few days in the beginning, Amber and I had been together nearly the whole time we'd known each other. Except for the times before she started traveling with us and the couple days in the hospital with Claudette, we'd slept in the same bed every night. Everything we did, we did together.

Nothing that could once have made me laugh made me happy. If I thought of funny music or something in a comedic movie, all I knew was Amber and her laughter. I could see her in my memory, looking down at her, holding her, her body shaking from the peals as a movie played, as Ray Liotta and Joe Pesci argued on as Goodfellas played, as Dante exclaims in the movie Clerks: "You sucked thirty-seven dicks?!?!?" and then later when it is asked: "In a row??" I could think of an Aquabats song, Amber doubling over in laughter by _The Cat With Two Heads_.

Everything was Amber. I couldn't get away from her. She was everywhere.  It made my skin crawl and my heart hurt. I felt like I was dying. I don't care what any kind of doctors say, but it was physical. It was pain tearing through my body, my organs burning, skin stinging. I hated it. I hated…everything. And myself.

It was confusing and frustrating the way my mood would swing, the way I could break down and cry and then calm down and just be rational, I couldn't stand it. I had a headache.

Sometimes I would simply know what had happened, and sometimes I would actually _realize_ it, and while I only acknowledged the truth I would miss them…and then the full reality would hit me and I'd fall to desperation and really feel it.

And all of this in the span of a couple days.

Never again would I wake up and have her clinging to me in a dark hotel room. Never would I open my eyes to see the purple and blue abstract designs which painted the bedroom in the apartment, and laugh as she pointed out shapes that the haphazard lines made. Never again would I see her bathed in the clean white morning light which poured through the huge windows of our bedroom in Vermont.

More than anything I realized that I'd never get to kiss her, and tell her how much I loved her again. I would never hear her sweet voice telling me the same thing, or listen to her singing in the shower. I hated myself for taking so long to get home that night.  I hated the snow that made me take so long. I hated A Perfect Circle for playing as I found her. I hated everything. 

I remember screaming out loud in anger as I drove. All I wanted to do was to find this…this FUCK who had done this, be it a man or woman, and I wanted to kill them. Actually it was more than a want. I was going to. Nothing would stop me.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the hotel a song was coming onto the radio that I recognized, Spiders by System of a Down. My heart felt weighed down as the music came to me, as I could see me and Amber dancing to it. She and I had danced to it before. I could feel her body resting against mine, feel the warmth and the comfort, feel her hands playing with my hair. 

Again I began to cry. I parked and turned the car off, the song no longer playing, and yet I still cried, holding my head and leaving my elbows against the steering wheel and sobbing. Eventually the door opened and I felt a hand on my shoulder, looking over to see Raven. He was crying, too, and helped me out of the car. The two of us walked up to my room, where I collapsed on the bed. 

Raven was talking to me but I really wasn't listening to him. I couldn't concentrate or care what he had to say at the moment. I just curled up, ignoring him. The drone of his voice made me miserable. 

I thought of that night when he'd nearly killed himself, and how much I loved him and how I couldn't imagine him ever being gone. He was one of my three best friends. I couldn't fathom not having him around, not having him there to joke around and play, or have around to talk to. And here he was, talking to me, and I couldn't even acknowledge him. It was wrong of me.

He was crying. After a while he finally said, "Kane…please don't do this to me…just because you lost your wife doesn't mean I didn't just lose one of my best friends…I don't want to lose you, too…"

My heart felt like it would burst, just pop and bleed out of my body. Such a pain tore through me with those words that I couldn't bring myself to look at him, only cry more. It was the worst thing to happen at the moment, because I felt what he said and I understood him and I _wanted_ to hug him and talk to him but I physically couldn't bring myself to do anything except just sob and curl up tighter so that he thought I was ignoring him. It felt horrible. 

I hated myself so fucking much. All I could think of was how much of a fucking idiot I was to go out to the grocery store, how much of an asshole I was to not bring her and Claudette and Jake with me, how much of a bastard I was for not thinking that it would be a good way to spend time together. I just fucking hated it. 

"Amber…" I said out loud, weeping. Raven put his hand on my shoulder. 

"She was my friend, too, Kane…" he choked. 

It was making me feel so guilty and selfish, worse than I already felt. I collapsed under his touch, surrendering to his help and leaning against him. It was so pathetic. 


	46. Too Late to Speak

I used a song by a local band called Vibrant Grooves…I know the members and I actually have permission to use it woo hoo!! XD XD And the song I used, I didn't get the lyrics, so what is says is my interpretations ((sorry Anthony if I got them wrong…eep)) 

Oh…and I know that this story is sad as fuck. XD XD but it's my intention and I guess I'm doing a good job at it. Sorry Kazaa if you're getting upset about it…but Hehey. I warned all of you!!! Big Red BROKEN HEART!! :P :P So there! Oh and this chapter is kinda short so I'm posting 2. 

Chapter 46 

I decided to watch Raw that night. That afternoon after I'd composed myself, Mark had driven me to the airport and I left to get to Mike's. He had set up his "guest room" for me in his monstrous luxury apartment above the hotel, the guest room really nothing more than a small apartment within his apartment, complete with it's own bathroom and kitchenette and living room. I was amazed and very thankful to him when he showed it to me. But as I was saying…that night, after an afternoon of being nice and calm and trying to have fun with Mike, I retreated to my room and locked the door, wanting to be alone. The refrigerator was filled with beer and sandwiches and soda and the counter overflowed with junk food. I loved Mike for his hospitality as I grabbed a bag of chips and a bottle of beer before I sat down and turned on the television.

Immediately when they panned around the crowd there were countless signs and banners for Amber. My eyes stung as J.R. made a small announcement about what had happened. He was choked up as he spoke and very solemn, King as well. I was completely dead and unmoving, my eyes tearing and the tears spilling, perhaps the only moving thing on me the tears the rolled. I couldn't bring myself to break down into tears, even if I wanted to. There was no point in doing it now; nothing would come from it.

Crying wouldn't bring them back.

Sobbing wouldn't do anything but exhaust me, and I was exhausted enough as it was.

The first few matches were half-assed and lazy, distracted. Before and after the commercials they were showing clips of her promos and pieces of matches and highlights and all that. They showed her debut, and the kiss. It made me feel so horrible. And then, near the halfway part of the show, Lillian Garcia stepped into the ring and began to say something about Amber which I really wasn't listening to, and then called for a moment of silence. It hit me when the arena fell quiet. My hand covered my face, and I began to choke on the sobs. I couldn't help it. I thought I would have a heart attack as I saw all the other wrestlers standing on the ramp, and heard the bell tolling.

 As the camera's panned around at the crowd I saw many people looking sad and distressed. I was hit by it.

"Amber…" I said over and over. I curled up on the couch, my sixth beer falling out of my hand and spilling on the carpet. And then came a tribute, the song Too Late To Speak playing, by the brilliant young band Vibrant Grooves.

"There's a constant dream about you that's running through my head. And it's playing like a movie that I wish would never end. But to wrap your arms around me and tell me you'll be gone, in the end I am drowning in the words that you have drawn."

I didn't want to look at the screen but I couldn't help it. Amber. They showed her wrestling, showed us kissing, showed clips of when she would laugh maniacally after taking a chair shot just to freak people out. I held myself, feeling like I would have a heart attack.

"Will there be a sequel? Or will it just end? Can I stop drowning? Will I see you again? Will I get to tell you how I really feel? Am I too late to speak? Will I see you again? Will I ever get lost get lost inside your eyes again? I want to hold you until the world ends. I never you to go be hurt by him again. I wish you'd stay, I wish this wasn't the end. I am just driving to get through this pain. And I can't stand you leaving, I want you to stay. But my feelings for you can't keep you here with me. So I feel that I'm too late to speak…"

I grabbed another beer, sobbing and I chugged it down, drinking as many beers as I could, turning off the TV as the song was ending and they showed a clip of when Amber won the Women's Title, as she hugged it and cried and raised her arm in victory.

Purple. Her beautiful purple hair…

I turned it off before it was over, not thinking that I could endure seeing the inevitable dates they'd throw up onto the screen at the end.

After a while, when I was drunk enough and miserable and tired, I passed out on the bed in my clothes. I knew that the next day I'd be looking for their resting place, perhaps the most morbid and tragic thing I could imagine doing.


	47. A Place to Sleep

Chapter 47 

I was amazed by how quickly Mike and I were able to arrange everything. It was because of our money, really, because we could pay for everything so quickly, but it still amazed me. We arranged everything, setting a wake for two days later and the burial a day after that. We chose a wide array and great spectrum of flowers. And then we went to find a casket.

They were all beautiful, shining and incredibly morbid. We agreed on one which we thought Amber would've liked, an old style, which was tapered. It was a rich mahogany color and a had a bit of a pinking finish to it that you could just barely detect under the right light. It was perfect. We also agreed that they only needed one casket, that they should be together, and we were able to arrange that.

Shortly after that we drove with the funeral director to the cemetery and he showed us a number of available areas where they could be buried. 

I was getting sick. I could feel the pain rise in my stomach and felt that I would vomit. It was wrong. All of it was so wrong.

Why? Why was I searching for a fucking gravesite? I should've been at home redecorating a spare room for our son. I shouldn't have been looking for a place to bury my daughter, but a place to play with her in our house. I should've been trying to find a vase so that I could buy Amber roses. I should've been in tons of other places and enjoying myself, but no. I was in a goddamn cemetery because they were dead and they were gone forever.

Mike showed me where Amber's mother was buried. I could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at the headstone, and I felt a deep hurt and sympathy. His wife was dead, and now his daughter. I wondered which felt worse…losing your wife and then having everything get better only to lose your daughter years later…or losing them both all at once. 

I stared at Lydia's grave. I could just see it, just picture Amber sitting there as her younger self, kneeling there, smiling, talking to the stone and playing with her hair in its natural color, dark chestnut like in the pictures she'd shown me. She had always been very beautiful. And what a waste of life…of beauty. I cursed whatever higher power may have existed, cursed nature, cursed whatever form of evil could create such a beautiful creature only to destroy it. 

The tears threatened me again, causing me to clench my fists and my jaw and ease in the deep breathing, trying to control myself. I had to control it, keep myself from breaking down all the time. It was coming to terms with myself and what happened; I had to _learn_, to deal with things appropriately instead of crying like a little girl. 

"Kane?" I pried my eyes away from the grave and turned to Mike. His face was drawn out and weary as well. He lazily lifted one of his arms and pointed. "Over there…it's a place where the two sites can see each other. Is that okay?"

I sighed. "Perfect…" 

Hate hate hate.

But it wasn't perfect…the whole thing wasn't perfect. I felt sick and wanted to go back to the car, so we did. Everything was set and ready. I was going to go back to Mike's and take a shower and then I planned to get drunk. It's sad when you get to that point…when you _want_ to throw yourself into a stupor and plan out your doing so. But it was what I was doing and no one was going to stop me.


	48. Damaged Perfection

Chapter 48 

The next morning I woke up and immediately felt my head pounding. My brain throbbed, and within seconds I realized that Mike was knocking on the door. I grumbled curses to myself as I got out of my empty bed and walked to the door, pulling it open and rubbing my eyes.

"Phone…" he said, and handed me a cordless. I mumbled a thanks to him and closed the door, sitting on the couch and bringing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Kane…"

It was Mark. My heart ached. "Hey…"

 "Um…are you having a…wake?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Tomorrow night. Can you make it?" 

"Of course…" I heard him sighing. "What do you want me to do with Jake? It's really not fair to you to abandon him…"

Jake…I felt terrible guilt, holding him to me as if he were a child. "Bring him to me. And tell Raven and Saphrin to come…and Becky…oh and tell her that if she wants she can get her friend Glenn and…Kitten…" my mind swam with names and faces of people who deserved to be there, who Amber cared about, but I just couldn't say them. I didn't want it to be like a popularity contest, yet at the same time didn't want it to be so open that it wouldn't be serene. In truth I felt a jealousy to anyone who had taken time away from us, just miniscule seconds that had ticked away while she was talking to someone else, time that could've been spent with me…

But that was irrational and selfish and I knew it. "Fuck it…you know what? Call Vince for me and tell him that any wrestlers and their families are invited to the wake…and then for the funeral I want it to be just a few people…"

"Okay…" he sounded so broken. "I guess I'll see you then…"

"Yeah…"

"Bye."

"Bye…"

It hurt me slightly…leaving him that much. I dropped the phone onto the couch and lay back, closing my eyes. Everything was so…ugly. Everything was so horrible and disgusting. I couldn't stand it. I wanted Amber…

And who was I kidding? Anger filled me every time I thought of her, of wanting her there with me. What the hell did I think that for? Why did I bother torturing myself with more than I already had? It didn't make sense. I was being stupid and hurting myself more than I needed to be hurt.

All day this bothered me. I isolated myself in my room, spending an hour or more at a time in one place, sitting in one position, my mind racing, then pacing back and forth for a while before sitting down somewhere else. I was losing my mind, losing my sanity and my grip on reality. Everything was so wrong, so bad, and that was all I could think about.

"Amber…Amber Amber Amber Amber…" I would mumble over and over. At one point I was laying on the bed with my arms around a pillow, visualizing it to be Claudette. And for a long time I wouldn't move because I didn't want to wake her up. Needless to say, I was a bit out of it.

As dusk was approaching I snapped back into my normal mindset when the phone rang again. Mike picked it up in another room and yelled that it was for me. When I answered it I heard James' cool voice. He was so smooth, like the perfect super-villain, though I knew he was one of the good guys.

"Kane…there was a message on your answering machine this morning from a photo developer…"

My heart dropped. I felt the tingling in my spine, the bile rising in my throat. The blood drained from my face as I thought of it, the day that they'd been killed. "Oh…"

"I was just calling to ask your permission to pick them up. Do you know what they are?"

"Yeah…" I croaked out. "You won't find anything, they're just some pictures of us in the snow…"

"Oh. Well I'll be sure to give them to your brother. I've spoken to him and he told me that he was seeing you tomorrow."

"Thanks…" I don't think he heard me but I hung up the phone before he had a chance to respond. My heart was pounding. The pictures…

And how fucking morbid was that? Pictures taken the day that they died? I cringed and drank more, crying and pouting and brooding before I finally passed out. I had a bad hangover the next day, and cut back on the drinking, trying to clean myself up. I shaved and showered and cleaned up the room a little out of restlessness. I wanted to keep busy, wanted to keep my mind off of Amber. But just…something…anything…would trigger it and I'd collapse. 

At one point I was trying to watch television, and on flipping through the channels I saw Hey Arnold!, which she loved, and watched as often as she could. I turned the TV off immediately and threw the remote against the wall so that it broke and fell to the floor. I pulled my hair and began to pace around the room. 

"FUCK YOU!!!" I screamed, thinking of whatever goddamn bastard had broken into _my_ house and murdered _my_ wife and _my _daughter. I picked up a chair and tossed it, flipped over a coffee table and sent food flying all around. I just wanted to kill everything, rip everything in the room to pieces, but the more I caused the destruction, the less it worked. I had too much energy and no way to take it out, and eventually just fell to my knees in the middle of the mess I'd made and again was reduced to crying.

After an hour or so I calmed down. I shook my head to myself. "Pull yourself together…" I said out loud, and stood, walking over to my suitcase and putting on clean clothes. I needed a suit, and knew that there were some at my apartment. I was standing in the room for a while, contemplating going there, but as I saw the clock I knew I was running out of options. 

"Mike," I said to him after leaving the room. "I'm going to go to our place and get some clothes…I'll meet you at the funeral parlor." 

He nodded a simple response. I noticed that there was something dead in his eyes. It stung me, made me feel even worse. Pity, sympathy, empathy…I don't know what it was. But I felt worse and gave him a weak, forced smile before leaving, taking the elevator to the bottom floor and walking to where we lived. It wasn't very far and in what seemed like an instant I found myself standing outside our door. I realized I didn't have the key and cursed silently to myself. For a moment I stood there, wondering what to do, until I decided to go find the super and ask him for it. I checked his own apartment on the ground floor.

He greeted me casually and asked what I needed, and I told him that I needed my key and he produced a master key for our floor and asked me to please return it when I was done, which I agreed to do, and then he asked me how my wife and daughter were.

_Don't cry don't cry don't cry…you can't just cry forever, Kane…_

I explained to him very calmly what happened and he looked horrified. I tried to ignore it, push out of my mind the repetition of what was happening, pretend that I was alright about it. I left him standing shocked and saddened by the news as I went back upstairs and let myself in. 

Amber. It was that smell that had come to me when I'd opened the suitcase. Just…Amber. And her perfume, her shampoo, the smell of candles and incense and hand cream. Such a beautiful sensation, such a warm feeling it gave…but so hollow. Slowly I closed the door behind me, feeling like I'd have a heart attack as I flipped on the light and stepped cautiously down the short front hallway into the foyer, as if something would pop out at me like a  movie or a video game. 

Everything was clean and put away, the way our homes always were when we were on the road. Not a single toy lay on the floor or any shoes kicked off in the doorways. Everything was put away, neat and tidy. I tried to relax, taking off my jacket and tossing it over one of the pieces of workout equipment we had in the foyer. I stepped forward and pushed through the light blue and clear glittery bead curtain into the living room. It seemed the only thing out of place was an empty glass on the coffee table, and I picked it up, walking through the dining room and into the kitchen. I placed it lightly in the sink, stung by the sound it made when the base of the glass hit the bottom of the metal. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to be calm, but the smells, the knowledge of where I was, did nothing but rattle me. After a moment of uselessly trying to calm myself I opened my eyes and looked down the short hallway which connected the kitchen to our bedroom, a bathroom off to the right. 

The bedroom door wasn't closed, and I saw our bed, the covers all made. I stepped slowly into the room, hit instantly with painful nostalgia. One of Claudette's dolls was on the floor, on a Persian rug which for whatever reason she enjoyed sitting on when she played. I cringed and bent down to pick it up. 

It was the doll I'd given her as a Christmas present. I mean…it goes unsaid that we spoiled her, if not with love, with all the toys we could afford for her…but this doll…I had bought it specifically for Christmas. Just a special thing about it that I felt it should be a Christmas present. 

The doll's name was Emmaline, and had bright green eyes and dark hair. She looked strangely like Claudette, but older, like what Claudette may have looked like had she lived to see seven or eight. Gently I fiddled with the buttons on Emmaline's dress. I lost my grip, my control just then, and felt the tears coming to my eyes.

I staggered back and sat down on the bed, clutching the doll to my chest. It must've looked so deranged…

"Claudette!!" I cried out, sobbing. I fell back and leaned against Amber's pillow, intoxicated by her scent, and curled into a ball. "I love you both so much…" I don't know that anyone who would've heard that could've told what I had said except for me, my voice so distorted from the crying. My chest tightened, eyes becoming sore as I held the doll against me, my hair in my face, Amber's voice filling my ears and Claudette's warmth covering my body. I was paralyzed by it and unwilling to fight it.

My Perfect Time…

My Perfect fucking Time…

…was over. And now I was alone, back where I started, with nothing.


	49. Defying the Stars: Part VI

**Chapter 49**

Honestly I don't know how long I was crying, but after a while I exhausted myself and stopped, watching the darkness come over the sky through the window and knowing that in due time I needed to be at the funeral parlor. I stood and moaned as I walked over to my closet, opening it and searching through it to get out black dress pants and a nice, black silk shirt. I had a sudden rush of memory of the funeral parlor where Mark and I lived with our parents…not a single piece of furniture in the public areas were upholstered in anything but black silk. And all the floors were immaculate white marble, except for areas of deep crimson carpets. But the silk…I felt a distinct memory of Mark and I slouching in them and sliding onto the floor for no reason other than we were bored and found it an interesting thing to do. 

I knew that somewhere in Amber's closet was a pair of shoes that I needed, in a box on the top shelf. Why they were in Amber's closet was simply because she had a shelf in hers and I didn't…so I braced myself before opening the door, doing my best to ignore all the things in the closest that nearly had neon signs flashing above them to get me to look. But quickly I grabbed the box and pulled it out, perhaps too quickly, another box falling out and landing at my feet. 

CD cases sprawled out on the floor, all of her CD's that she didn't listen to as much. She went through phases, had different sets of CD's that she'd listen to over a few months, and here was a box of them that she obviously hadn't been into for the time being. I knelt down a picked one of them up, Third Eye Blind's self-titled disc. I sighed and dropped it back onto the pile, leaving it there so that I could get dressed. I was only too happy to get an extra key out of the kitchen and return the master one to the super before getting the hell away from that place. I called a taxi to bring me to the funeral parlor.

Mike was already there, among a few people who were slowly filing in from the parking lot. All of them I knew, and chose to ignore for the moment. Immediately I just walked around trying to find Mark. Within minutes I found him sitting in the lobby on a couch, hunched over and looking at the ground. I sighed a breath of relief and walked over, sitting down next to him without words.

"Hi…" he said softly, almost so that I couldn't hear him. His hair was down and formed somewhat of a veil around him. I knew that he was very upset, I could tell. It's things like this that really tell people, like I knew he was upset because he was hiding himself, which he rarely did. It stung me, and on an impulse I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Mark…" I replied in the same tone. He turned slowly to look at me, pushing his hair behind one of his ears. His eyes were red, and I could see the tear stains on his face.

"I got your pictures…" he said, voice cracking slightly as he reached into his jacket and pulled them out. "I looked at them…sorry for not asking…"

"No…it's okay," I took them from him, frowning, wincing and trying to keep the tears down as I put them in the inside pocket of my coat, not wanting to see them. I drew in and blew out a few deep breaths, trying to control myself. I realized that Mark was staring at me and I turned to stare back.

"I miss her, Kane…" his eyes filled with tears and they spilled as he frowned, as his face twisted into misery. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his hands, shaking his head to himself. "And I'm really going to miss her…"

_Really going to miss her_…

Again it was pounded into my head that she wasn't coming back. Neither of them were. Amber, Claudette, the loves of my life…they were gone. Nothing was going to bring them back. I frowned and looked away as I felt the thudding in my head. 

"Mark…" I began to say something but it died on my lips. The tears began to rush from my eyes before I could hold them back, and before I knew it he was holding me and I was crying on him again, just like in the hospital. It was so pure, so brotherly. I clung to him and sobbed, ignoring the pained stares I was getting from everyone around us. "You're all I have Mark…" I said to him.

He rubbed my back. "No…don't forget about Raven and Saph…and Jake and Evan and Sugarbear…we're all here, Kane. Don't forget that."

"But you're my only family…" I moaned. "I had a _family_ Mark! Do you fucking understand that? And now they're gone…"

"I know Kane…I know…" he rubbed my back, and within a few minutes I had calmed myself, wiping my eyes and catching my breath. I stood and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. 

"Breathe…" I told myself. "Calm down Kane…Breathe…"

I looked into the mirror, my eyes miserable and dead. And my face…my fucking face. I was so…hideous. The sobs began to rise again in my chest, and before I could cry I found myself punching the mirror. It broke, shards sticking in my knuckles. My heart was pounding as I swallowed all of it, refusing to cry, refusing to do anything but be composed and try to appreciate everything, all the people there who were there for me and for Amber and Claudette…

I didn't want to appreciate that they were dead though, my head arguing with itself and ignoring that. After a while I left the bathroom, seeing Mark sitting on the same couch and talking to Mick Foley. Mick was in tears, and so was his wife, who was sitting next to him. I winced at the sharp pain I felt and turned away.

"Kane…" I heard a semi-familiar voice behind me and turned around. I saw a very low key, out of her slut image Sable. I was shocked and couldn't say anything.

"Hi," I said, unsure of what she wanted. There were tears in her eyes.    

"I'm umm…I'm really sorry for everything that went on between Amber and I…I didn't hate her or anything, you know. And I mean…I don't know. I'm just…sorry. And I came to pay my respects to both of you and apologize."

My heart was rising in my throat. "I understand. Thank you, Sable…" 

Tears were spilling out of her eyes. "She wasn't angry with me, was she? Do you even know?"

"No, she wasn't. I don't think she cared that much, there were too many good things in her life…" Sable nodded her head, pausing for a moment before stepping toward me and giving me a tight hug. 

Neither of us had anything else to say to each other. We drifted apart, numerous other people coming to me and hugging me and crying and asking me if I needed anything and telling me that if I needed anything to just ask…it touched me and hurt me incredibly to see all these people, some of the toughest men I'd ever known, in tears, reduced to blubbering, emotional messes. 

In truth I was terrified of going into the viewing room, sticking to the lobby. People wandered in and out of there. I just drifted back and forth, eyes turned away from everyone's pity, ignoring the fact that nearly everyone was staring at me and yet less than half of them said anything to me. I understood…I mean I wouldn't have known what to say either. 

 The doorway was burning in my eyes, open, and at one point I just barely caught the shine of the coffin through the corner of my eye. My heart began to pound, like it would explode. I looked away, staring at the ground for a moment before I felt a hand on my arm. Slowly I turned around to see Raven, cleaned up and wearing a shirt, his hair tied back. I was shocked at how old he looked, the creases deeper in his face and eyes raw, pink and swollen.

"Hi Kane…" he said softly, nearly inaudibly. I felt my bottom lip pull into a frown, fists clenching as my chest tightened. I opened my mouth to say hello to him but no sound came out.

"Hi," I choked. My eyes found themselves watering again, and tears again streaming down my face. His bottom lip was trembling, eyebrows coming together like he was doing his best not to cry. It was awkward, and there was nothing to be said. He pulled me into a hug there, bursting into sobs and me doing the same thing. It was so fucking…gah! I can't even talk about it. Just soooo goddamn sad and annoying and pathetic. A room full of crying people and…it was too much for me. Within seconds I had pulled away and collapsed onto a couch, Raven standing over me and wiping his eyes and trying to catch his breath. I held my head in my hands, elbows propped up on my knees, fingers tangled in my hair as I tried to breath as well, a sharp sting hurting the inside of my chest with a single morbid thought, something that was ever present but just came in a sudden moment of realization.

                               Raven and Saphrin would come, and Mark would come, and they'd all hug me and cry with me because I was upset, but the one person that would actually make me feel better wasn't going to, and that was the reason that I was upset in the first place, and now it was getting all jumbled around and confusing. I screamed in anguish, thinking of it, hearing a slight silence blanketing the room only for a moment before the light conversations started again.

                               Mark sat down beside me and I felt his arm around me. It was completely powerful, my _brother_, perhaps the only person I had left to make me feel better in the least. The only person physically who would be of any comfort, who would be able to hug me and hold me…I felt so goddamn pathetic but I didn't do anything about it. 

Saphrin at some point sat down on my other side, taking my hand in two of hers and holding it and then crying, kissing my knuckles and weeping. I don't know how long this went on until Mark finally quieted me, and began to speak.

"You have to go in there…" he said quietly. Saphrin wiped her eyes and leaned her head on my shoulder. Raven was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table in front of us, looking too exhausted to cry. Neither of them really understood what Mark was saying. I did, though, and cringed. He hadn't gone to our parent's funeral, and his whole life regretted that. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life regretting it, either.

                               I sighed. "I know…" I said softly. Raven looked up at me, then to Saphrin and then Mark.

"Listen you guys," he said slowly. His lip was trembling again as he spoke but no tears came. "And especially you, Kane…Amber is gone, and so is Claudette, but we have to stick together. You know on the road everything gets alone, and sometimes tedious, but we have to help each other, and be the friends we were…we can't let this get us down…"

"Alright, Scott," Mark said. Again I felt a sting in my heart that he'd called him "Scott." I shook my head to myself. 

"This is _wrong_. It's fucking wrong and you all know it. How can you just fill the void like that?"

"Kane," Saph said, sitting up and turning to me. "Please Kane you aren't making this easier. We aren't replacing her. We just mean that…" she began to sob. "You aren't the only one who just lost someone, Kane! She was our friend, too! You can't just think we'd try to replace her. How could we fucking do that?"

"We just need to be here for each other," Raven said, sniffling, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.  He sighed, none of us speaking. "And we also need to go pay them our respects…"

"You guys haven't gone in yet?" I asked, a bit surprised but not knowing why. All three of them shook their heads. Mark hunched his shoulders and stared at the ground, breathing very deeply and slowly. I could feel his pain emanating from him. Raven did the same thing, and again Saphrin was leaning on me. I covered my face in my hands, repulsed by my skin but needing to look away from everything for a moment.

"It's getting late, too," Saphrin added. "People are starting to leave." 

I looked up and saw that she was right, that one or two people were getting their jackets. Those who left came to me first and gave their condolences. 

"Shall we?" Mark asked softly, not looking up. I groaned, tears sinking back into my eyes.

"Yeah…c'mon…" we all rose together, slowly, and made our way to the door. I stood in the door frame for a moment, feeling that there was some invisible force field that kept me out. Mark turned around.

"You coming?"

I wiped the tears before they could fall. "Give me a second…" I whispered, not whispering intentionally. I could feel my heart pounding and hear it in my ears. Raven, Mark, and Saphrin slowly entered the room, going ahead of me. I couldn't bring myself to move. I just stared for a moment, fear consuming me, _afraid_ to go in and see her only because I didn't want to in an extreme way. I had a rush of memory of when I was a child, when every once in a while Mark and I would hide in one of the storage closets outside the viewing room, where there was a vent on the door and we would lay on our stomachs and watch wakes and funerals. I remember _wanting _ to do that at my parents'  funeral, when I was still very much in pain from my injuries and the light hurt my eyes nearly unbearably and I didn't want to be seen…but I specifically remember that morning when Mark was trying to put bandages on me and peroxide and clean all of it so that there wouldn't be an infection, and I remember him helping me around because I had lost my equilibrium for a while from losing sight in one eye…he was helping me around and we were talking about finding a place similar to the one which had burned, where we could see but not be seen. 

But Paul overheard. And his solution was to lock Mark up in the attic while he took me to the funeral, and held me by the wrist in the dead center of the room for everyone to see. I was so scared of him that I couldn't bring myself to cry or fight but just stood there, thinking of Mark. After that, my first experience of being publicly humiliated, it was the first time that he ever locked me in the basement. Why? Because Mark was in the attic and we were as far away from each other as possible.

Fucking bastard. I hated him more than anything now, and wanted to blame him for what was happening here. 

"Fuck," I said under my breath, clenching my fist and trying to gather all my energies to take me into the room. Slowly I entered, the doors opening into space between the wall and the back row of chairs. I took short steps, eyes ahead of me and not looking at the casket that lay to my right. I saw the part in the chairs which formed an aisle, turning slowly. I felt the gazes of everyone there, everyone sitting and everyone standing and everyone that had taken a moment to stop talking and stop their crying. My heart pounded as I began up the aisle, remembering our wedding, where there was an alter and chairs and an aisle…and mostly the same people there. I cringed, feeling the tears rising my eyes as I a prie-dieu before the coffin came into my vision. I stopped, the silence engulfing, feeling like I was the only person in the room, and for a moment not caring about anything else in the room except for what was right before me. 

Honestly I didn't want to look up. I had seen them twice already this way, when I'd found them and when I had been in the morgue. I didn't know if I could do it again, or if I wanted to. But the truth was that I had to, and I took one more step toward them before raising my eyes to see.

Claudette was laying on Amber, Amber's arms around her. Her hair was clean, and combed, and trimmed…for a moment I actually was happy that she looked so nice before reality came to me. Amber's hair was clean as well, and curled, as it had been in my dream. Her eyes fell closed, mascara emphasizing her beautiful eyelashes. Her skin was white, like a fairy tale princess, and had blush on her cheeks, so that they were pink. She was beautiful, but not now. Now she was just wrong, and I hated it. Because as nice of a job they'd done cleaning up her body and making her wounds invisible, she was _dead_ and not really alive. I cringed, placing my hand on top of hers, which rested on Claudette's tiny shoulder. She wore a beautiful black dress, one that I knew she would've loved, with billowy sleeves. And she wore her wedding ring. I let out a sob as I looked down at her, my heart about to explode.

Her hand was  so cold. I despised it, despised all the coldness, the feel of a corpse and of snow and of anything like that. It made me surge with anger, and yet made me completely upset because of fire. I was stuck in neutral, between the cold of my wife and my daughter and fire which had disfigured my whole life. I imagined that Amber's eyes opened, that she clasped her hand around mine and smiled, and that Claudette woke up and giggled and the three of us went home and watched movies. We could watch _Romeo & Juliet_, the new one, the intense one with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes, with warm smiles and beautiful words and lovely kisses. She and I had watched that movie a lot, and knew most of the words to it.

I thought of Romeo, hearing of his wife's death, screaming and falling to his knees. Of Juliet waking to find Romeo deceased beside her. Of her hollow sob, the one that echoes through the cathedral. I saw in my mind the night I'd seen Amber dancing, when I'd been lying on the ground, intoxicated on fresh air and nature, seeing the stars circle Amber and the stars shine through her eyes. Did she dance with them now? Among them as some form of an angel? With out daughter? I couldn't help it now and sobbed, falling to my knees before them. 

"I defy you, stars!" I screamed, just like Romeo, then clutched my stomach and my hair and collapsed, feeling hands on my shoulders and not caring to see who they were. I shoved them all away, crying, staggering up to my feet and turning to all of them. "You can't just stand there and think that I don't hear your silence, that I don't know you just stare at me!" Mark approached me and put his arm around me, telling me to be quiet and calm down. I punched a table that was beside me in anger and frustration, sending vases of flowers to fall on the floor, letting Mark take hold of me and try to make me feel better. He wasn't, but perhaps the one clear thing in my mind at the moment was not fighting him because it would have hurt him. I let him hold me for a moment, let him tell everyone that we needed a moment alone, that it was time everyone left. Slowly they filed out of the room and he pulled me over to the first row of chairs, sitting me down there. Raven and Saphrin stood there above me, and Mark sat beside me. They were all crying.

"Kane please…" Saphrin said. She sounded genuinely feminine, tears in her voice. She reached down and played with some of my hair. "Kane please calm down. Don't do this…" I pulled away from her, losing myself, standing up and screaming.

"Fuck you!" I shouted. "Fuck you, Saph! You don't know what the fuck happened! You don't know who fucking killed them and what it looked like! Don't tell me to calm down goddamnit!" She closed her eyes as I yelled. I felt really bad about yelling at her but couldn't help it, I needed to take it out on someone. More tears rolled when her eyes closed, and for a moment I felt a terrible emptiness. She had beautiful eyes, hazel, reddish irises and a deep, enigmatic expression in them. I felt it when she closed her eyes, like she was shutting me out. It felt awful. But I was bringing it on myself and I couldn't stop. 

"Kane!" Raven yelled, taking Saphrin into his arms. He wiped tears from his face. "Don't go around being an asshole! It isn't fair! Don't you think we know how you feel?"

"No! Don't you fucking say that, _Scott!_ You do _not_ know how I feel! Why don't I just go kill Saph and Evan? How would you feel then? You don't know how I feel and don't try to say that you do! Just…fuck off!" I spat. I could see the hurt in his expression at what I'd said. Again I felt completely sorry but couldn't help it. I hoped he'd seen the regret in my eyes, hoped that he knew that I didn't mean it. He fell silent, taking Saph by the shoulders and leading her out of the room without looking back. My fist clenched as I watched them. 

Again I stepped up to the casket, staring at the two of them. I was losing my mind. "I'm really sorry that you had to see that, Amber. I'm sorry for cursing in front of Claudette…I know you don't like it…" I sighed and took her hand, intertwining our fingers. "Scott was just being stupid, he doesn't know what happened. I'm sorry for being so loud. I don't mean to hurt your ears you know. It's a good thing Claudette didn't wake, though, right?"

I heard some strange sound from Mark, like a gasp, like he was incredulous and shocked. I know now why, though at the time I couldn't imagine what he was doing. And I don't remember what I was thinking, only remember what I was doing, and that it was very upsetting, and still bothers me. Because I'd gone mad for the time being.

"Amber…" I said. I wasn't that upset anymore, not crying, just calm, talking to her. "I got our pictures of the snowman. I didn't look at them yet though, but I will. I'll be sure to show them to you…" and then, and I can't remember what came over me so I can't say what it was that made me do this, but I slipped my arm around the back of her neck and began to lift her. Claudette's body slipped out of her arms and I began to pull her so that she sat up and I could carry her. Mark was on me in a moment, screaming in my ear, telling me to put her down but I didn't want to. I didn't want Mark getting between me and my wife. But finally he pried her from my arms and rested her in the casket before turning to me and punching me square in the face. It was a real punch and broke the skin on my cheekbone. I could feel the blood trickling down my face just as tears had done so prevalently over the past few days. He then shoved me, and I staggered backward. I caught myself and straightened, coming for him and trying to grab his hair. Before I could do that he speared me and we both toppled over each other into the chairs, knocking the all down. I hit my head and was too winded for a moment to do anything. Before I knew it he was pinning me against the floor.

"Get a hold of yourself!" he screamed. His hair was brown at this period of our lives, almost red, and it was falling down around his face and into mine. I stared at him, at his eyes which were mixed with horror and anger and sorrow. His electric eyes which always gave some kind of paralysis. I fell under them, not making any struggle as he had me pinned there. I had a flash of a memory of Valentine's Day, three years earlier, being pinned by him on a bed in a hotel room. Desperation rushed to me, as did tears. I began to cry. Not sob, really, but weep. His gaze softened, anger leaving his expression. He backed off of me and helped me sit up among the knocked over chairs.

I was shaking. I tried not to look at the beautiful display which I'd more or less mangled. I was humbled. Mark rubbed my back. I wiped my tears, smearing the blood all over my cheek. 

"I want my mask," I said quietly. He winced and bit his lip.

"Alright, Kane, alright…let's go to Mike's…" he said, so calmly and strong, trying to keep me from going into hysterics. He stood and grabbed my arm with both of his hands, pulling me up, holding me so that I wouldn't stagger as we left the room, leaving the funeral director to clean up our mess, which really was part of the job I suppose. Mark helped me put on a jacket and we walked to Mike's, him holding my arm and talking softly to me the whole time. I can't recall whether I've forgotten what he said or if I just wasn't paying attention to him. When we got up to my room, which was miraculously clean and in the right order, he made me sit down on the couch and went over to pour me a drink. 

Chills ran down my spine when he handed me a cup filled with Coca Cola and no ice. He knew me too well, remembered that I always drank Coke with no ice to calm myself down, and when I was upset. I remember when I'd broken up with my first girlfriend, and he'd come to see me and brought me a two-liter bottle of it. Thinking about that made me more upset, thinking that I'd only had two girlfriends before Amber. One of them, the first one, I lost my virginity to her. And as it turned out, she was just doing it as a bet with her friends to see if I was "well proportioned." I got sick thinking about her. My other girlfriend…she had just been a ringrat who was hell bent on seeing what I looked like under the mask.

Bitches.

That was why I was so hesitant when I first took off my mask for Amber, only to find that she didn't care. I mean, I was normally like that with people, uncomfortable and everything, but with Amber it was different, because she was a woman and I felt attracted to her and more than that. Drawn to her somehow, like we had been meant for each other.

I drank the Coke, feeling a little calmer, having it calm my nerves if not my mind. My body relaxed, and Mark sat down beside me. I picked up a cushion and fiddled with it, trying to keep my mind on simple things. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Kane we really need to talk. We have to have a serious, non-crying, non-emotional conversation right now. And I know that's hard but we have to cooperate for a moment because this obviously isn't working out very well," I was about to make some sharp remark to him but he silenced me. "Kane. Cooperate. And don't think I don't know how you feel…" he said, and tapped his temple with his forefinger. I sighed, realizing that he did know, that he could sense it. I leaned back on the couch, letting my head fall back, staring at the ceiling.

"Alright, Mark. What?"

"Good…now listen," he said, a tiny bit choked up but swallowing it. "You really can't do this to yourself or to me or to Raven and Saph. It was really mean what you said to them tonight…and I know that you didn't mean it but you have to understand that they just lost their best friend. Imagine if this was Scott in your shoes…you'd be sad as hell if Saphrin was gone and you know it. So don't do this to him or to her. Or me. You promised that you'd be here for me just like I promised to be here for you. Kane, you're my little brother. You mean a lot to me and I don't want to see you brought down by this. You have to stay strong and live through this. I just lost my niece and my sister-in-law and I'll be damned if I have to lose my brother also…" he touched my face and turned my head so that I'd look at him. His eyes were so intense and determined. "I don't want to lose you, Kane. We've lost enough people. Our parents were two too many people for the two of us to lose. And now we've lost others. We can't leave each other. You have to go on…"

The cushion which had dropped into my lap was once again in my hands. I looked down at the floor, seeing a slight stain from the alcohol I'd spilled. I felt timid and weak, and hugged the cushion, resting my chin against it. I whispered: "But I don't want to…"

"Kane," Mark tried to get me to look at him. He snapped his fingers in front of me. "Kane. Kane!" he sounded a little impatient. Finally I lifted my eyes. "Kane…I'm saying this to you now, and I know for a fact that you know how hard this is for me to admit to people...but Kane- I love you. I really do. More than anything. And you're killing me by doing this to us. Just…stop it."

I began to respond but he interrupted me. "And don't make any excuses. I'm not going to _let_ you be this miserable. You have to pull yourself out of this. And I know that you're hurting, and I understand that, and I know that it's never going to go away, but this is just the beginning. The destruction will go on as long as you let it until you decide that you can put an end to it. You are miserable as fuck, I know it, and it's all you. You have the power to make it go away. So…when you decide that you can go on without your loves, which I know will be hard, but once you decide to adjust and clean yourself up and come back on the road, I promise you everything will be better."

Tears were coming again but I didn't make a big theatric out of them. They just came silently. He stood and began to leave. "Clean up your face…I'm leaving," he said softly. And then, as he was walking out the door, he turned around and gave me a bit of a grin. "And stop fucking drinking…damn lush…"

I laughed a little too, which lifted my spirits incredibly. He sighed relief before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Mark's words meant a lot to me. I respected the hell out of him as being my brother and even just himself, as Mark Callaway. The Undertaker. The Phenom. My brother. He was so many things and such a wonderful person. It amazed me how much better I felt once he left, leaving me his words. He was wise and usually gave good advice. 

I didn't doubt him. I walked into the bathroom and washed my face, trying not to concentrate on my reflection, before going to sleep. 

Hey duckies! Did you like the long chapter? Muah I bet you did. Anyway…I wrote my first Jeffie fic and I want to plug it here because I think my duckies will all like it. XD XD I'm done with it already, just have to post the chapters. It's called Figure 13 and its under my other screen name, Gwenny the Penny v.2.0. So when you get a chance check it out for me! Because it's ME! It's GWENNY! I'm not some dumb fangirl writing a Mary-Sue about Jeff, dammit!! XD XD Okay. So see ya. 


	50. Cinderella

**Chapter 50**

When I woke in the morning I felt completely sick. I rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom and just couldn't stop vomiting. The moment of calmness that I'd had the night before completely vanished. Mark's words dissolved and meant nothing. I felt that heavy pain that I'd been feeling the past few days, of longing and misery and hatred. And confusion, anger. Everything was a tempest inside my head. But I knew that there were things that I had to do. There were clothes that I needed from the apartment, and also I felt the strange urge to spend time there. Whether this was something drawing me to there or my own need to put myself through pain I still don't know. But I wanted to be there. As soon as I'd composed myself the best I could I headed over there, again broken upon entering.

It was just…complete Amber. Everything. I looked at all her things and where they belonged, at her clothes and her books and her movies…I didn't want to touch any of it, feeling that I was a clumsy fool who would ruin the beauty of her possessions, that if I were to do something so trivial as put something on a shelf the slightest bit crooked I would be ruining the integrity of her things. It tortured me. 

For a long time I just stared at one of the shelves in the foyer, one that held just one of our Anne Rice collections. All the Vampire Chronicles in chronological order. _Merrick_ seemed to smile at me, one that I didn't like as much. That I'd read through and yet failed to finish reading to Claudette (because yes, I'd kept up with that). I'd read perhaps seventy pages to her before giving up on it, not being able to endure the book another time. I stroked the spine with my finger, sighing, closing my eyes tightly and trying not to cry, for as much as I wanted to, equally I didn't want to. 

It frustrated me that everything was so contradicting. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to move on, as Mark had said, and at least _try_ to get better, or just collapse and wallow in my own self-pity and misery. Whatever I chose, I figured, for the time being I was allowed to mourn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was more of a choice of how long to mourn rather than whether or not I should mourn. 

Eventually it was that which made me break down again. The decision to allow myself to mourn. It had been less than a week and I felt that I was entitled to. I'd give myself a few weeks at least before I made any half-assed effort to be nice to myself. And so now I was not only in pain, but almost performing some act of masochism by forcing myself through all this, by stepping into Claudette's nursery and allowing myself to be miserable.

She had a small bed with rails on it, pink blankets. The carpet was fluffy and thick and soft, so that it almost felt like you were walking on cushions. It was light blue, and the walls were light purple with a little wallpaper border of Winnie the Pooh characters along the top, near the ceiling. They weren't the Disney characters though, the softer ones, the original A.A. Milne ones which matched the pastels of the rest of the room. It was a stereotypical toddler's room, soft colors and overrun with toys. Nearly half of her bed was covered in stuffed animals, as well as a dresser and also one of the corners of the room. She had a bookshelf covered with pictures books, ones that Amber and I would read to her and some of them pop-up books and some of them those ones that were battery powered, with the panel of sound effects beside it. I winced as I looked around at all these things, then up to a higher shelf of collectors dolls, high so that she wouldn't play with them, all of them resembling her. Emmaline was like the rest of them, but less delicate, which was why she was able to play with her. And she even had a small television with a Claudette-sized couch, and around it shelves of Disney movies, ones that I enjoyed to watch as much as she did. My heart throbbed as my eyes scanned the titles. _Beauty & the Beast, Pocahontas, Aladdin, the Lion King, Cinderella_…

Cinderella…

I frowned, wiping my eyes and sniffling and wondering if I were a version of Cinderella. If I were just some useless creature who no one cared about who was given until midnight to be happy and have a good time. Of course, I was given three years rather than a few hours, but nonetheless, exactly three years later the clock chimed and they were instantly taken away from me.  

"Claudette…" I whispered. I closed my eyes, feeling them sting, feeling my nose twitch with it as I felt it. I wrapped my arms around myself, curling into my pain, groaning as I felt burning engulf my body, ripping holes in my organs. I heard her giggling, echoing in the room, breathing out of the walls. It was completely eerie, like a ghost. I shuddered and on impulse turned out of the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind me. I turned down the hall to my own bedroom, stepping in and lying down on the bed, the doll Emmaline still on it from the day earlier. I choked as I looked at her, as I lie there, feeling strongly the emptiness of the other half of the bed, knowing that Amber belonged there.

And her pillow…it smelled like her hair…

I couldn't help the sobs as they overtook me, as I grabbed her pillow and held it against me, crying hysterically. Every time I opened my eyes I would imagine her to be lying there next to me, and fall into a painful despair knowing that it was only an illusion. When I closed my eyes I would see her, just random memories. I would see us wrestling, see images of when we would shower together, see us lying in bed awake, see her dancing, see the awe in her eyes when she watched a movie…just anything. And most of all between all that, or more of silhouette during all of it, was her, dancing in the stars. "I defy you stars," I mumbled again. It seemed the perfect line, and in fact it wouldn't leave my head. All I could think about was Leonardo DiCaprio falling to his knees, arms stretched, screaming that with his whole heart. And that wretched look on his face, that contorted look he had of such pain…pain that I too could feel. 

Romeo robbed of his beautiful Juliet. Me robbed of my beautiful Amber.

I felt a sudden hatred for Shakespeare.

I felt a hatred for every tragedy of fiction and of reality, every wrong that had been done unto others from an author's imagination, who could just sit there and write out something so evil, when in fact I was _living_ that evil. I even felt anger at myself for ever taking part in reading such works of filth. Things like _Romeo & Juliet_ and _Antigone_. I thought of Sophocles, of Haimon's misery when wrong is done unto his Antigone. And oh god what about James O'Barr and his graphic novel? Of the avenging angel, Eric Draven, returning from the dead to find some justice for he and his love Shelly? And the tragedy of Louis de Pointe du Lac and his love Claudia. 

The world was so filled with all of it. I couldn't stand it. I cringed at all of it, squeezing Amber's pillow against me and weeping, thinking of her and of our tragedy. There was Romeo and Juliet, Haimon and Antigone, Eric and Shelly, Louis and Claudia…but now was Kane and Amber, and to me, that was the worst of all of them.

When my stomach hurt too much to keep carrying on and my eyes felt like they were too dry to drop another tear, I gradually stopped, still holding her pillow though it was soaked with my tears, curled up on our bed, my eyes closed, sore and drowsy. I shook, aftershock of such crying which always stays for a while, sending little impulses, twitching and shaking for a while afterward. I hated it, as I hated everything else just then. 

As I was calming, as I tried to breathe properly and take a hold of myself, I heard something from the other side of the apartment, not hearing it quite clearly and taking a moment to realize that someone was knocking on the door. I shook my head to myself, forcing my body out of bed and to the door, looking through the hole for a second, trying to adjust my vision from all the blurriness of crying for hours on end.

It was Raven.

I sighed and opened the door, gesturing without words for him to come in. He held Jake in his arms, and put him down on the floor as he stepped in and closed the door. Jake seemed excited, flapping his wings and rubbing against my legs. It hurt me to do but I couldn't stand to look at him so I just walked away, ignoring him. I went into the living room and sat down in an arm chair, Jake coming in and trying to sit on my lap. I pushed him away.

"Go away, Jake," I scolded. He understood the harshness in my voice and I saw his body portray something that looked timid as he walked away. It touched my slightly as someone who was a master of body language. After all the years I'd spent being sullen and quiet, not to mention that it hurt my throat to talk for years, I'd learned how to speak with actions. I didn't need to anymore but I still knew how to.  It really isn't something that leaves you. Raven leaned against the doorframe, behind the bead curtain. He seemed a little pissed off. I sighed.

"What are you gawking at?" I snapped. He stepped into the room, no less pissed off as he'd been seconds earlier. He glared at me for a moment before softening, in an instant turning from angry to miserable. He leaned against the wall, running his hand through his hair.

"Kane…please…" he sighed and sounded like he was about to cry. "I know how weak this is going to sound…but could you…please…stop being so mean to me?" 

I felt horrible and almost began to cry again. I covered it and didn't change my appearance, just stared at him. He spoke again. "I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to offend you or whatever but you had no right to say what you did to me and Saphrin. And I mean what I've said to you numerous times all week. Kane- I…_really_…don't want to lose you, too… I don't know what I'd do if that were to happen and I really don't want it to…"

I found that I was unable to speak. I could see the longing in his eyes. Begging me to say something, anything to him. My heart was about to burst, head about to explode as I bit my tongue, not knowing why I showed him silence but not being able to help it. He stared longingly at me for a few minutes before I saw the tears running down his face. He sighed as he wiped them away.

"Whatever, Kane…" he muttered. "Just…take care of Jake. Please don't be mean to him, too…" he said, and turned away, passing through the curtains and walking away. My heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through my body. Mark's words played over in my head. "_You really can't do this to yourself or to me or to Raven and Saph. It was really mean what you said to them tonight…and I know that you didn't mean it but you have to understand that they just lost their best friend. Imagine if this was Scott in your shoes…you'd be sad as hell if Saphrin was gone and you know it. So don't do this to him or to her. Or me."  _I heard him opening the door and jumped up out of the chair.

"Wait!" I cried. I heard his footsteps stop. "Raven wait! Please don't go! Raven please! Scott I'm sorry! Please come back!!!" I cried. Literally I cried now, finding that, like I said earlier, you can never truly run out of tears. I collapsed on the floor, on my knees, leaning over and holding my head. I heard the door close, afraid that he'd left anyway until a moment later when I heard him enter the room again. I saw in the corner of my eye his boots, and lifted my head slowly to see him sit down next to me. His tears matched my own. I sat up and hugged him.  "I'm sorry," I said over and over. "I didn't mean what I said, I swear. I couldn't help it. I just needed to yell at someone…forgive me, please Raven. I don't know what I'd do without you!"

His face twisted as he hugged me back. "Calm down Kane…I understand…calm down…" he said softly. His voice was so warm, so soft and soothing. It reminded me of Brad Pitt's voice, reminded me of Fight Club and Se7en and Interview with the Vampire. When I thought of Interview I was pummeled with more memories, more misery. I pulled away from him, shaking my head to myself and forcing the thoughts out of my head, forcing my own composure to come present. Within seconds I'd gained this, and looked up to see him completely tranquil. No tears, no trembling. Only the remnants and signs of stress, of sorrow, traced his expression. The deepened creases in his face and the gloss of his eyes.

"I'm sorry I've been such a dick to you…" I said softly. He nodded slowly, telling me with his eyes that he understood. "It's just that…I don't know. I don't mean to be this way I just can't help it…"

He nodded his head slowly. "It's okay. I understand, Kane. Don't apologize…just…don't do this."

I sighed. "I know, I know…I can't help it…"

A moment of silence passed between us. He shifted and moved back a little, leaning against another chair. We both sat on the floor, two or three feet away from each other. He played with his hair. "Becky is really worried about you…"

"Is she here?" I felt my heart lift a little bit. I almost smiled. He nodded.

"Yeah she couldn't get a plane out here so missed the wake. She got in this morning. She's out with Saph buying clothes for umm…for…tonight…" 

Both of us looked away, cringing. I moaned as I ran my hand through my hair, trying not to look at him, trying to keep myself composed so that we could have a conversation. He seemed to be trying to accomplish the same thing.

Raven fiddled with this shoelace. "I'm really fuckin' sorry about all this…"

I felt my own realization of his pain, putting everything beside my self-pity, letting myself feel empathy and sympathy for him, my friend. "So am I." 

**Hehey ducks. I'm taking this time to plug my friend Krissi's FUCKING AWESOME Jeff Hardy story. It's her first fanfic and it kicks my ass…so I want all of you to read it. YOU'RE TIME WON'T BE WASTED!!! It's called The Way Out is Through and her penname is Krissy Hepburn. So read it!!  Look---- I'm even giving you the URL!! !! All you have to do is cut and paste it you lazy bums! And REVIEW!!! :P

And for those of you who read my story Figure 13, under my other screen name, yes, it's the same Kristin. XD


	51. Reformed of Sparks

**Chapter 51**

I spent most of the funeral with Becky. I met her at the hotel, with Saphrin, giving Saphrin a long hug and apologizing for everything. "I'm so sorry…" I kept saying to her, and she kept crying and telling me it was okay. Becky was very quiet, humble, stricken by her own grief and at the same time suffering mine. She felt bad, and it made me feel worse, like it was my fault.

There wasn't really a great funeral ceremony, just a few people gathered around, some of Amber's friends talking about her. I was probably the one person who should have said something but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It upset me greatly when I saw the coffin, closed forever, shut, suspended above a perfect cut rectangular hole. It wasn't raining or anything, but the skies overhead were gray. Stereotypical funeral weather…and it was cold. Everyone who was there bore heavy coats, and we stuck out in black from the white snow that covered most of the other land. It had fallen overnight, about three inches, and from the look of things it seemed that it would snow again.

I just held my head, my hair down and gelled so that it wouldn't poof out. It hung in front of my face, a veil, a shield. I covered my eyes with the fan of my hand, hiding my tears, listening to the drone of soft voices, a hum, buzzing in my ears. 

About fifteen people were there. I didn't take time to count but looking back on it, that's my guess. Me, Mark, Saphrin, Raven, Evan, Becky, Glenn, Mike, a couple of Amber's close friends, and then the crew from the cemetery, ones who would bury them. We were very lucky to have a mild winter, in my mind. There hadn't been a whole lot of snow and it was fairly warm for winter…all I mean to get at was that the ground wasn't frozen…

For people reading my lovely narrative…in certain climates, in places where there are in-ground cemeteries…during the winter, if the ground is frozen, a person cannot be buried. For that reason, often in cemeteries there will be a large shed where they can keep bodies until the ground thaws…incredibly macabre, isn't it? I'd never thought about it until that time in my life. I knew the deal, of course. Why shouldn't I? I grew up in a funeral parlor. These are the kinds of things that I _know_. But what I'm saying is that…I never took the time to consider that. How completely horrible it would be if you're wife or child…or both in my case, were killed, and you had to wait three months with them in some shed for a burial. It's fucked up.

Usually at burials, the diggers wait for everyone to leave before they do their job. After we stood there for a while, tossing flowers onto the casket and around the hole, no words spoken, most people just kind of left. Not abruptly, like they were putting a black and white line on when it was over, but kind of meandering away. In truth I was the first person to do it. After a while, after a couple of her friends had addressed the group with reminiscing, I turned and walked away, deeper into the cemetery, up a hill. My back was to everything, I didn't want to see it. I sighed heavily, feeling my stomach turn, my heart ache. It was some horrible nightmare. I wanted to wake up already.

I felt Becky's hand slip into mine and felt a kind of peace. She put her hands on my arm, without words, leaning her head against me. I pulled her into a hug and felt her crying, felt the heave of her body though I couldn't hear her. I didn't cry. I don't know why…it came and went. At that point I just didn't. 

We held each other there for an unknown amount of time. All that I knew was that I was holding Becky and I was at my family's funeral. That I would never see Amber again. That I would never be able to kiss my wife. I would never play with my daughter. I would never know my son.

Becky urged me away, bringing me back to the car. As we were passing the gravesite I stopped. They had begun to lower the coffin, slowly, and I could only see the top, the tapered lid. I bit my lower lip, sharply, tasting blood a moment later as the coffin exited my vision. I stood still, unwavering to Becky as I watched the dirt fall upon them, making known the individual grains, sparkling, floating as they landed. I clenched my fists, felt all my muscles tighten, fighting myself. I made some small protesting sound, hearing myself but not doing it on purpose. I felt like running there, pulling them out of the hole and discarding the horrible box. But I held back, knowing that it wouldn't bring them back.

A sufficient amount of horror came over me as I watched the dirt being poured over them. It made the hair on my arms stand up, a chill run through me. I realized that at the funeral, in the morgue, I could see them. I could physically see them in front of me and touch them and at least have them there…it was a strange thing. Because now they were being detached from me. And that scared me. A lot.

I had to, or at least try to, learn to accept that. It's called reality. My family was dead, and I wasn't. I tried to deal with it, tried to rationalize. People die every day, and their survivors learn to deal with that. Why was I so different? Why should I be exempt from the rest of the world? Or actually…why should all of them be exempt from sorrow? I was confusing myself. I didn't know what the fuck I was supposed to do. To me, there were three options:

1) Move on. Take a few weeks off from wrestling and get better, then not let it consume me. People did that all the time. If the death of a relative or a friend was unbearable, then death would be contagious, and the world would cease to exist. One person would die, and then their survived would kill themselves, then _those_ people's friends would kill themselves over the misery…it could just go on and on. And since that doesn't happen, it means that people get over it. Hell some people even have second spouses. I highly doubted, though, that I'd ever remarry, even if I would get over her. She was my one and only.

2) Live my life mourning for her. Not misery, necessarily, just mourning. Dedicate the rest of my life to worshipping her and missing her and loving her forever. I wouldn't always be miserable, I guess. Eventually the shock could wear off and I would feel better about it. I would just be loyal to her.  I wouldn't remarry, wouldn't look at another woman…and suppose there existed a Heaven, though I doubted it at that point, but suppose there was, and suppose I was to go there and meet Amber. If I were to find a new love, a woman who loved me as much as I loved Amber, what would happen then to the three of us? Religion was dead to me so I had no thoughts to ask a priest or someone who could answer these questions for me, I didn't care enough to find out. And it was only a slight possibility anyway…by worshipping Amber and keeping her sacred, it would make this problem nonexistent.

And then my third option…I pushed my hair out of my face. It seemed like the burial was taking years. It almost reminded me of a movie, something that Amber would need a box of tissues and her husband to watch, where she would cling to me and sob as some tragic concerto played over the scene, a terrible bittersweet legato cacophony, the music so pretty and liquid, yet sporting such a horrible message. I covered my eyes and closed them, breathing slowly. My third option, in my own logic, would be…to join them. And how terrible that was, contagious death. It was all in my hands, I suppose, my choice of when and how and if I should do it. It seemed to me that this was the only control I had anymore. My decision, my life, my hands. But that would take a lot of consideration. If it were just up to me I would've done it right then and there and been buried at that moment with them, with thoughts of no one else except for myself. But pensively I realized how cruel it would be to Mark, Saphrin, Raven…three of a list who were devastated already.

My heart started to pound as I remembered that I had _fans_. I shuddered, thinking of my fans, realizing how there were kids and people all over the country who loved Amber, not just me. And that at the same time there were people who liked me. Girls who would probably drool over me, kids who wanted to be me. It made me sick to think of, like there was too much weight upon me, from people I hadn't thought of since all of this had happened. But it was true as I thought of it now, that my life was kind of in a glass house. And it would hurt a lot of people if I were to be gone.

I'd attempted suicide five times as a teenager, twice during my twenties. But ever since Mark and I had reconciled and I'd gotten a job with the WWF I'd been, overall, very happy with the way things were going. The thought of suicide hadn't crossed my mind at all except in the form of memories, memories which I kept concealed from Amber. It wasn't really something I distrusted her with or something I wanted to lie to her about, just something that I hated to bring up. She didn't need to know, I didn't need to upset myself over it, and it had nothing to do with the two of us as a couple. Just every once in a while I would be reminded by a book or a movie or a nightmare. Firework flashes of memories; blood and blades and pills and hospitals. Of doctors, doctors who didn't know what they were doing and that I hadn't thought of in years until the funeral.

Back then I don't think that anyone would have missed me. Paul wouldn't have cared at all, Mar…I don't know. I hadn't been talking to him then. But I imagine that it bothered him. I don't know why it wouldn't.

"Let's get out of here…" I was shaken from my thoughts by Becky's voice, and adrenaline pulsed in a little jolt as it happened. She pulled me away and I followed, trudging down to the parking lot, turning my back on the grave. It burned into my back, and burned my eyes. I forced myself away. Becky had rented a car there, and had driven us to the funeral, so walked me to it, unlocking it and having us both settle inside. She sighed heavily and leaned back in the seat. I was looking down at nothing, my gaze resting on the consol of the car but not on purpose. Becky didn't start the car right away and I realized that she was looking at me. I turned to her. Over her shoulder in the distance I saw the diggers still. I shuddered and shifted my vision so that I looked into her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked me. I wiped my eyes with my hand and nodded. Her forehead creased. "You sure?"

I gave her a dark, sarcastic half-grin. "For someone who just watched their family being buried…yeah I'm okay." She smiled weakly.

"Right…" I heard the jingling of keys as she turned them in the ignition. Her CD player resumed play and sounds of cellos filled my ears, soft percussion, Melora's beautiful voice. I closed my fist tightly, gasping a bit, shocked initially for a moment as the music struck. I closed my eyes as she pulled out of the cemetery, somewhere on the road outside to ask me where I wanted to go, to which I absently replied: home. She nodded her head and we drove in slice, lost in music.

Amber had liked Rasputina. She would listen to them sometimes when she was tired, after a long match she would bring a stereo into the bathroom with her and listen to them to take a bath. And she liked to listen to them when it was raining and she would just sit in the house in Vermont on the carpet next to the window, staring at the rain. Christ…I missed her. I held back my tears as we drove.

Some time had passed, four songs maybe, and she parked on the sidewalk next to my building, turning to look at me. Her eyes said what she didn't, silently begging me not to leave her alone. I unbuckled the seatbelt. "Do you want to come up?" I asked. She nodded and gave a tight smile. The two of us got out of the car and entered the building, walking up the stairs. I let us into the apartment. 

She stepped in slowly, like the walls themselves would crumble, like the place was something sacred that she was afraid to desecrate. I closed the door behind us and led her into the living room, gesturing for her to sit down on the couch. I looked out the window, glancing to see snow falling again, the sky slightly dark. I shivered, fighting the tears, swallowing the lump in my throat as I turned to Becky. She looked uncomfortable…not physically but like she was upset to be there. A wave of paranoia crossed my mind that she was afraid of _me_, but I shook it off, knowing that she wasn't. 

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" I asked her. She shook her head. "Be honest, I'm just trying to be a good host. You aren't making me go out of my way or anything…" 

Becky's mouth pulled into a frown quickly and then went back to placid, as if she were struggling to not cry and lost herself for a moment. "I'm kinda cold…" she said softly. I nodded and approached the fireplace, struck by memories and shoving them out of the way as I lit a fire, leaning back on my heels and staring at the dancing flames.

I longed to join them. 

With my back to her I spoke. I didn't know why I was telling her what I did, maybe just because I couldn't deny any longer that I needed someone to talk to, and she was here for me and I was ready to take advantage of that. I choked on my words, staring into the orange and yellow, entranced. "I feel bad for them…" I said. She made some small sound of understanding, and nothing more, like she was expecting me to continue, which I was. I sighed. "Sometimes…when kids go to new places for the first time, they get scared. Like when a kid moves, and they're afraid of their new room and all the new shadows, or when they sleep over at one of their friends houses for the first time…in my life I've never really felt this but I understand. I've read it in books and seen in movies and I'm compassionate enough to imagine what it's like for a child. Things are always like that, though, you know? It's incredible how uncomfortable something can be when you aren't used to it, as an adult when you get a new car and don't want to part with your old one, when you buy new furniture…it just isn't the same and it can take a while to get used to. Unless, of course, you want the change. Like you could buy a new couch because you want one or you could just buy it because your old one was destroyed. Either way, it's uncomfortable and unnatural. Claudette was never old enough to know this, and I've spent nights awake before thinking about her future. I always wondered…" I paused because I was choking on the words, strangled. I breathed deeply for a moment. "I always wondered what she would be like as a teenager, imagined what her life would be like, how she would be treated in school, how she would think of having retired wrestlers as parents. And I wondered what kind of young woman she would develop into, if she would be happy…I wondered if she would be some bitter kid that hated her parents, and hoped that she wouldn't because I wouldn't be able to take it, but at the same time couldn't possibly imagine that happening. Amber is –was- too beautiful a person to have anyone ever hate her. She was too…perfect for that. And she loved Claudette so much…she would've made the best mother in the world when Claudette was older. Because Amber's mother died, and she never had a mom to show her girly things, and I knew that she would've been so good to our daughter. And…I would've, too…my parents died when I was so young…and Paul wasn't exactly a father figure…I would _never_ do anything so cruel to a person as he did to me, and Claudette…I would worship her. I would treat her like a princess, as we did already. I'm not afraid to admit that we spoiled her, because I don't care that we spoiled her. She was too young to let it get to her head, and I loved her completely too much to deny her of anything. She was my daughter, a creation of mine. And then comes…our son. A son who I didn't get to have or even know about until it was too late. One that was never given a chance to be born and be loved. There is no pain greater than this that I've ever felt…and I don't know if I can handle it…"

I stopped again, my sight blurring, fixing onto the flames and they hugged the wood in the hearth. The wood popped, crackled, the heat came against me in waves. I closed my eyes, still seeing the light, the brightness in my mind, being too experienced with fire to not see it. "I told Amber once this philosophy I had…about fire…I wonder now if it's true, that this demon could give everything back to me that it stole. I wonder if for some reason it could raise sparks in the air to form the shapes of their bodies, come together and purge the filth of all of this, reform two beauties. They…they didn't deserve this. I would be burned all over again, relive the torture I went through as a kid…I would do it all over again if it meant that they would be saved. No one deserves what happened to them, no one deserves to be killed for no reason," I started to cry. "Why would anyone hate her that much? Amber was the nicest person…" I fell back and drew my knees up, covering my face with my hands as I wept. "She didn't deserve this! And what the fuck did Claudette do!?! She was only two years old! What great evil could she have done for this!?!? Or…was it me? Is this some type of karma for me? Did _I_ do something to deserve this? And why did they have to pay for it? Why couldn't the bastard have just killed _me_ instead? I wish I was dead now!"

Becky rose and came around the coffee table to sit down on the floor next to me. She put her arms around me, just holding me there. She was the same size as Amber…it was almost as if I could try to pretend…

But I couldn't. It wasn't the same. I knew it wasn't the same and nothing would make it the way it had been. All that was over. But perhaps…perhaps finally I was learning to deal with it. I hugged Becky back and cried. "And I just think about how uncomfortable things are…I'm so scared that they don't like where they are now. I'm so scared of Amber being afraid, that she's somehow in her body and afraid of being enclosed in a box, buried. She never told me what she wanted done with herself. Maybe it was wrong to bury her…maybe I should've scattered her ashes. The thing is that _I don't know_! And even if it was…how could someone destroy something so beautiful?"

She rubbed my shoulders and ran her hands over my hair, trying to comfort me. I calmed, opened my eyes to look up at her, mirrored misery staring back at me. We were equal, we were one, hearts beating together, lost in each other. The tears stopped flowing from both of us and I sat up, still on the floor. Her hand rested on my thigh. I pushed her hair out of her face slowly and leaned in, not thinking twice as I kissed her. It lasted only for a moment before I felt her hands on my chest, softly pushing me away. I pulled away from her, seeing her looking horrified as one of her small hands reached up and touched her bottom lip. I could taste her, and wanted her. She had a bit of fear into her eyes, and for some reason at the moment it didn't mean anything to me. Maybe because I was stressed out, maybe because funerals seem to make people want to have sex and after the day's events, that's what I needed. Maybe just because I wished she was Amber. Either way, I was gentle when I spoke to her.

"Becky I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly, and stroked her cheek with my knuckles. "Trust me," I said to her, and went to kiss her again. I saw a transition in her face as it happened, almost like a twitch, and she didn't resist, putting her hand around the back of my neck and kissing me back. For a few minutes we did this until we got to more serious things. As corny and cliché as it was, it was by the fire, and warm. And afterward I was exhausted, and she fell asleep. I just stared at the flames, not realizing the full extent of what I did until Amber told me.


	52. Thomas

**Chapter 52**

I opened my eyes and saw Amber. The fire had died and glowed embers, and aside from the slight heat radiating from it and the heat collected under the blankets that Becky and I had, the room was cold. I gasped when I saw her, tears instantly filling my eyes so that her face lost its shape. I sat up abruptly, standing and stepping out from beneath the blanket. Amber took a step back, away from me, and smiled. But not in a nice way, but more like she was trying to taunt me. 

"Amber!" I cried, and reached for her, walking towards her. She walked backwards away from me to the other side of the room, grinning as two fingers touched the circular volume knob on the stereo. She turned the music up, the song Thomas by A Perfect Circle, laughing. I winced, wanting to cry. I didn't understand why she was doing this, but I loved her so much that I didn't care. It was like Pip and Estella, the fascination. I just wanted to be near her, and when she had no more places to back up to I reached out and touched her arm.

She was warm. A shock when through my body at her touch and my mouth hung open. "Turn the music off," I said, begging her. She looked at me without changing expression. "Amber…please turn it off…" tears rolled down my cheeks and I kneeled, holding her hands, kissing her knuckles. "Amber…Amber you're alive…"

"Kane…" Oh her voice!!! So pure, so real! It went through my body, electricity so that I twitched. I dropped her hands and wrapped my arms around her waist, leaning my head against her stomach. The song played, and she sang softly to me with it. "_Humble and helpless, learning to pray. Praying for visions to show me the way_._ Show me the way to forgive you…allow me to let it go. Allow me to be forgiven. Show me the way to let go…_"

I looked up at her, at her mercy. "What?" I asked her. Her voice was so pretty, so enrapturing, putting chains around my wrists and bounding us together. She leaned down, kissing my cheek softly and whispering in my ear.

"Show me the way to forgive you, allow me to let it go. Allow me to be forgiven, show me the way to let go. Illuminate me. Illuminate me. Illuminate me. I'm just praying for you to show me where I'm to begin. Hoping to…hoping to reconnect to you…"

"Amber…" I cried, placing my hands on either side of her face. I pulled her close to me, laced her cheeks and her forehead with kisses. She was so soft against my mouth, such a fantasy. "I'm sorry Amber…I'm sorry…I thought you were dead, Amber! But you aren't! You aren't! You're right here and we're together now!" she smiled and put her arms lightly around my neck. I put my arms around her, holding her against me, swelling with happiness and putting my head down to cry. I smelled her hair, her shampoo, her perfume. I felt her body in my arms, her warmth, her volume, the density of matter. I cried with joy and pulled her into the other room, away from Becky, turning the light on to dim to look at her there. 

She wore a gauzy white shirt, and a white bra beneath it that I could see, sleeves billowing out and flowing around as she reached up to touch my face. I could smell incense and I couldn't suppress a smile. She wore an equally beautiful white skirt, an Indian style one that flare out, floral embroidery creeping all over it. The purple of her hair was greatly accented by it. "Kane…it's snowing…play in the snow with me…" she said. Her voice rattled my heart, echoed in my head.  

"Amber I knew it wasn't true!" was all I could say, me just ranting to her. "I didn't believe it, I didn't want to! You're immortal, Amber, my goddess! I was imaging everything, all of it, wasn't I? You would never do this to me…how could you? You're too perfect…"

Her hands ran through my hair, my curls twisting on her fingers. I screamed out in agony as she did this, tantalized, confused. I cried, falling before her, my hands touching her, running over the solid of her body. And her skin, her form, pulsed with such light, such life, bursting with warmth into the tips of my fingers, tingling into my hands, my arms. She seemed to glow in her whiteness from the rest of the room as I clung to her pathetically. "Don't ever leave me again," I sobbed. "Please, Amber, don't leave me! I promise I'll never hurt you, I'll never do anything to make you upset! Just stay with me! I love you so much! You're my goddess! Amber! Talk to me! Please! Speak!"

Warmth encased my face as she wiped my tears away with her hands. I nearly convulsed at her touch as it passed through me, electrocuting impulses that danced through us.

"Kane, you don't love me anymore, do you?" her voice was so sweet, so musical, and so malignant with that. Her smile faded and her eyes became glassy. "Kane, why would you do that to me? I loved you, Kane, and now you _hate_ me!" my mouth hung open as I stared at her.

"No!" I shouted, not at her but unable to control the volume of my voice as I so adamantly confessed to her. "Amber, no! And none of that matters now! Why should it matter, Amber? You're _alive_!!! Amber you're alive! It doesn't matter what happens now because we're together!!"

Amber's face was somber as she paused, and turned her head slowly to look away from me. "Show me the way to forgive you. Allow me to let it go," she whispered. Her hair shifted as if  invisible fingers of wind had played with it, a strand of deeper purple spreading and seemingly becoming lighter. I was obsessed with this, rapt. "Kane," she said sharply. Her tone was angry and strong, and I flinched like an abused animal when I heard her. I began to tremble when she said it, frightening me. Her eyes locked on mine again, holding me down, putting shackles on my arms and on my lungs.  She looked like she would, at any moment, burst into tears, which made me equally miserable. 

"I_ loved_ you, Kane," her voice hung with her tears. I held my breath as I saw her eyelashes slowly descending, her eyes closing. Thick black curled eyelashes that rode her lids down. They met her cheek without a sound, only a visual, a single tear forming to roll on her delicate face.

But the tear was red, and think, quite resembling blood. I fell backward away from her in horror, afraid of what she was and why this was happening. She opened her eyes quickly, snapping her head up to glare at me, lids revealing empty eye sockets. Blood poured from them, more than a tear now and streaming, gushing fluidly and ruining her skin. It burned, scalded the flesh so that it hung loose from her cheekbones. I screamed and darted away, bolting to the other side of the room and standing. Her head followed me, her eyes gone but still with the voids centered on me, turning to follow my movements. Even when I stood her head tilted upward slightly.

"What the fuck??" I screamed, falling back into the wall. A shelf covered in collectible dolls and daggers came crashing down to the floor, spilling, breaking. I looked down to see a doll of Anne Rice's Armand, eyes bewildered, lower face cracked and crushed in. Armand was Amber's favorite. I looked back up at her quickly, red staining her white dress, covering her face save for the space between her eyes and running down in an aisle to her chin, so that her mouth was clean as well. Her eyeless figure slowly shook her head. Her mouth pulled into a small, evil grin, and she back to laugh. It wasn't just any laugh though, she was laughing _at me_. I shook, hands trembling, body nearly violently racked by tremors.

"Amber, stop it…" I whispered. I held my hand. "Stop it! Go away! YOU'RE NOT MY WIFE!!"

Her laughing stopped abruptly and she shook her head faster. Back and forth, back and forth, so that her long hair swung around and even drifted across her face, smearing blood.  "I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you! I HATE YOU, KANE!!! AND YOU HATE ME!!"

"No…" my protest was weak and despondent. I covered my mouth with my hand. "Amber I love you! I do!"

"You never loved me!" her head stopped shaking, so quickly coming to a  halt that her hair kept going and it sent little droplets of blood spaying onto me and onto the walls. For the first time since she'd lost her eyes she moved something other than her head. I gasped, coughing and feeling my legs go weak beneath me as she made her way toward me, limbs moving rigidly, like a marionette with an inexperienced puppeteer, twitching as if she were infested with maggots or some other controlling parasites. One arm lifted, outstretching, her fingernails long and covered in glitter polish. My heart thudded in my ears, louder perhaps than the screams that were coming out of me.

And she seemed to weak, so frail, and so much smaller than I was that I easily could've shoved her away, tackled her to the ground, broken her neck or even her body in a few simple gestures, but I just couldn't do it. I was torn, unable to tell what it was in front of me, if it was in fact my wife or just some ghoul. I had no way of knowing, and even if it was either one…it was her body. It would be a terrible sin to destroy such a piece of art. So instead I just screamed, at her mercy as she came towards me, taking forever to reach me. 

With a swipe of her hand she reached to hit me, and defensively I put my arm up, my wrist out, only to catch the fury of her nails, four of them slashing me. She grinned again and took a step, back, shoulders jutting out from her frame and legs twitching like something from a Silent Hill game. When she backed off I felt a little safer and looked down at my forearm. Angry red lines left in the wake of her nails crossed horizontally, burning, throbbing and glowing red, the skin around turning pink. She began to scream at me again.

"Look at you, Kane! You're pathetic!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! You're such a _freak_, Kane! Such a freak!" she said this as an insane person might, like she was repeating it to herself because imaginary voices chanted it around her. I felt my face heat, embarrassed and hurt severely. "You're so…" –in what was there in her expression, disgust joined- "_ugly_, Kane. You bastard!"

I covered my ears with my hands. "Stop it! STOP IT!!!" she just laughed.

"You're a freak, Kane, you're a freak and you know it," she said, laughing. I finally snapped and shoved her away from me further. She stumbled and hunched over in the middle of the room, like her spine had broken and she couldn't hold herself up. I watched the blood drip from the empty eye sockets down onto the carpet, making such a mess, such a disaster that I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I stared, curious and aghast, unable to pry my eyes away from the sight. Her arm rose from the mess and reached for me again, so that I jumped back into the doorway between the foyer and the hallway. Her nails seemed like they were aging, becoming yellow and weathered, at the same time that the skin on her hands and arms shriveled. The veins that ran through the limb were accented in deep purple and green, and the skin itself morphed to gray. I was shocked, disgusted, completely startled by it, and I pivoted, running down the hall and into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me.

I watched the doorknob anxiously, panicking when I could hear her in the hall. Specific sounds; a foot dragging on the floor, a body that was pressed against a wall trying to move. The sound of her clothes sliding against the wall as if she were leaning on it, as she would step-slide like a zombie. I covered my mouth with my hand as I heard her approaching, and worst of all as I heard her calling out to me like some haggard, decrepit old woman- "Kaaaaaane!" with a rasp and a sourness to it and made my stomach turn. 

Seconds passed and the sounds grew louder, until I saw the slightly traceable rectangular shadows formed in the crack between the door and the floor, of her feet in front. I felt the presence more than I heard her, like some ominous demon that was breathing all around me, suffocating. I backed up against the far wall to look at the door, feeling my body go numb as she banged on it and scratched it. 

"Oh God…go away go away go away…" I whispered. "Go away…"

I looked down at my arm to see the wounds open up, skin prying away on either side to form a shallow red gorge that leaked crimson. I touched one of the wounds with one finger, staring at the blood that I'd smeared. I stared for a moment before lifting my head to look up at the door.

Amber was angry.


	53. Even Angels Fall

**Chapter 53**

I woke up screaming, sitting up quickly to feel a cold sweat covering my body. I tried to catch my breath, plagued by the nightmare. Becky's hands were on me and she seemed extremely alarmed. I realized what we'd done and gasped, shoving her off and nearly jumping to my feet to glare down at her. I had on a pair of dress pants, no clothes other than that, and it appeared that she wore nothing, pulling the blanket we'd had on the floor over her chest. I felt filthy, unable to believe how I'd betrayed Amber, and now she was angry with me. I raked my hand over my scalp, thrilled by the sting it gave. Exhilarated, yet so appalled at my own behavior. I stared at her angrily.

"What are you trying to do?" I demanded of her, glowering, even more pissed off at all of it when I saw the look of confusion that spread across her, as if she didn't know what I was talking about. "Oh don't give me that look! You _ know_ what you caused me to do," I spat.

"I-" she stuttered her reply. "I'm…sorry," she murmured, still as if she didn't know anything. I shook my head.

"What were you _thinking_, Becky?" I asked her in disbelief. "What were you trying to do?"

Her mouth hung open. "_Me_? Kane, you're the one who started it!"

I fell silent, knowing that she was telling the truth, that she was right, I was wrong, that it was my fault. I lowered my eyes and sighed. "…right. Sorry." I ran my hand through my hair again. "No offense, uhh…Becky, but I need to be alone…" I was incapable of looking at her as I said this. She sighed and I heard her moving and grabbing clothes from the floor. I shook my head to myself quickly, taking it back. "No…I'm sorry. You can stay here if you want…just leave me alone for a while…"

If she said anything after that I didn't hear it as I walked through the other door of the room, through the dining room and into the kitchen. Everything was so devoid of feeling and comfort without her, so gone from the truth that I didn't recognize it that much, like it was a mirror world or something. I turned and looked at the stove, and ahead to our open bedroom door and the bathroom door that was to the right in the hallway. I remembered coming out of the bedroom that once to see her and Eeyore making pancakes. I held back the heavy pain that rose in my chest and reached blindly to grab a chef's knife from the rack on the counter, not having to look to see where it was because I knew it was there. I staggered into the bedroom, locking the door and sulking to the corner of the room, falling against the wall and sliding down to curl there, beside the pile of CD's that had fallen and had yet to have been picked up.

The cuts that Amber had given me during the restless dream was vivid in my imagination, so much so that I felt that it would drive me mad because I thought I could see their traces. My eyes were open and my hands were steady as I recreated them, pushing the blade down strongly, making four lines across my wrist before putting the knife down on the floor. I stared down as the blood trickled, my arm red yet the cuts deeper in color, though were quite shallow to a point where they would do no permanent damage, only good, to let me vent. I liked it, enjoyed the color that I hadn't seen in so long, veritably blazing from the white snow that fell now before black skies. 

The pain wasn't too great, really just a sting, nothing in comparison to what I felt inside. But I owed it to Amber, even if It didn't mean anything to me, it meant something to her as I sat there, with no shirt, cradling my wounded arm against my bare stomach. My eyes closed, feeling so heavy that I couldn't keep them open. I hadn't really slept at all in the hours passed, and fell drowsy, lethargic now as my head fell back, leaning against the wall.

"Amber," I mumbled. I coughed, feeling out of breath, exhausted. "I'm sorry, Amber. I love you more than the world. I'm so sorry, Amber, you have to believe me…" my words were slurring and I could hear that for myself. I was just so tired…and crying again, but gently. Very lightly, making no strangle on my words or stage of drowsiness. "Amber I'm bleeding for you, for your life, Amber…which I wish I could give back to you…just, please. Don't be angry with me. I can't stand for you to be angry with me…" I let my body go numb, felt the bit of wetness of blood against my stomach. Slowly it was drying, becoming sticky, giving me a horrible recollection of previous experiences such as this, again, things that I hadn't thought of in years. I remember cutting my arms lightly, leaving no scars, just shallow slashes which would heal, whose sting made my adrenal glands active, made inner pain lessen, if even for only a few minutes. I remember how sticky the blood would get as it dried, as the smell gets thicker then, so that it filled my head with that rusty kind of tang that blood gave off. 

Everything was blurry, disorganized. I held my head with my uncut arm, fingers in my hair, palm against my forehead. Too silent. I hated it. The sound of _nothing_ ate at my brain, burning a hole in my head, starting small and working to be bigger, corroding. I could visualize the underside of my skull, gray matter burning and singing, blood sloshing and draining out of my ears, my feeling numbing. I didn't react to the pain in this vision, just let it all happen, not fighting. But the silence…

In a clumsy motion I reached to the pile of discarded CDs, grabbing a random one, crawling to the other side of the room to put it in the stereo. All I saw was a gray disc, couldn't make out the letters, didn't even look at the case to see what it was as I hit the random button and fell back on my heels, leaning against the foot of the bed. By coincidence, as a joke, I don't know why, but I was met with a mellow, sweet tune, drowned and meeting a crescendo. My eyes darted to the face of the stereo, my blood smeared over the buttons, fingerprints just barely visible, kind of glossy. I stared in horror as it poured through the speakers, as my whole body felt a crashing pain, as if I'd been hit by a truck. I held my chest, taking in ragged breaths of air as the song played, and seemed to drip, like water, or tears, or the blood that ran down my arm. I started to cry pathetically, choking, strangles, holding my ears, the blood on my arm smearing onto the side of my face. "No…no, not this song…" I said out loud, yet made no effort to turn off the music as it continued to play, as the weight of the song kicked in. I thought my head would explode. That song…The Background.

It was the song I'd listened to that day, right before Claudette was born, and I hadn't known that to relate it to at the time, thinking only of my mother, unsure of why it was written. But it seemed perfectly clear to me now.

"Everything is quiet since you're not around. And I live in numbness now in the background. I do the things we did before. I walk Haight Street to the store. And they say 'Where's that crazy girl? You don't get drunk on red wine and fight no more.' I don't see you anymore, since the hospital. The plans I make still have you in them cause you come swimming into view. And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do. The words they use so lightly I only feel for you, I only know because I carry you around, in the background."

I grit my teeth, scalp in flames as I pulled my hair. "Fuck!" I screamed, the words passing through my mouth without me opening it. Very thinly I tasted blood, lightly running from my arm to my temple, rolling down the side of my face and falling to my lips. I closed my eyes, sobbing, listening to the song, hating it.

"Girls they come and memories all repeat. I lift your head while they change the hospital sheets. And I would never lie to you, no, I would never lie to you, no. I felt you long after we were through, we were though. The plans I make still have you in them cause you come swimming into view. And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do. The words they use so lightly I only feel for you. I only know because I'm way, I'm way in the background. I'm in the background…"

With a guttural scream I kicked the stereo so that the CD changed, and it went onto one of Amber's mixes, one that she left in the CD player. I remembered that she liked it and had been going on binges of listening to it, but must've forgotten it from last time we were here together. I opened my eyes, tears fluidly falling, looking timidly at the digital display window, afraid of what would come on, like all the songs were out to get me. 

I heard a building sound, like ones they use to test the surround on a television. I vaguely recognized the song, something by one of the Goth bands that Amber listened to. I enjoyed Goth music, just didn't listen to it as much as she did. But I recognized the band, The Crüxshadows, and knew that the song was called Even Angels Fall. The music came in and weighed me down, not and blind, sharp pain but just paralyzing. It came in, synthesizers and eerie, fantasy sounding chimes. I cringed as the lyrics came on, the vocals pained, drawn and miserable. Rogue seemed as pained as I was.

"Sorrow sings her kisses in silence. Adjusts the blinds to the keep the light from mocking everything I feel. She dances slowly, a silhouette upon the curtains, but her eyes seem to cry only empty tears. I bet for comfort with inadequate verse. It meant so much to me…and so little to her. And I am sinking into a mountain of self pity. Why can't I simply disregard all the things I feel? _Where is my angel? Where is my angel? Where is my angel when I need him most? Tell me now-where did he go?_"

The fact that my arm was bleeding all over me and cut open was forgotten. I reached over and in some act of masochism or impulse, something I couldn't even identify, I hit the repeat button, so that the song started all over again. And I listened to it again. And over and over. I don't know how many times I heard it, how many times I heard the lyrics and thought of my wife and my daughter and  my son. It could've been hours, I don't know, I don't remember and I wasn't paying attention at the time. But eventually I heard knocking at the door, and saw that the knob was turning back and forth, like someone was trying to open it but it was locked.

"What the fuck do you want?" I called, glaring at the door. Outside it was still snowing, and windy, so that it seemed that it fell sideways. 

"Kane, open the door. Please…" it was a female voice. Becky's. I knew somewhere in the back of my head who it was but I didn't want to admit it. I wanted it to be Amber behind the door, so that she could come in and we could kiss and dance and…be together. My eyebrows came together and with that false hope I stood, walking across the room and opening the door.

"Amber?" I asked excitedly when I opened it, expecting to see her there. But I didn't. I didn't see purple hair, but golden. I felt a bad taste in my mouth and all the sorrow turned to anger. The Crüxshadows continued to play behind me as I took a step backward into the room, watching Becky's eyes travel to my arm, seeing the cuts, seeing the blood that was dried on my stomach and on my face. I had made a mess, not realizing it until just then, that blood was all over me, even though I wasn't bleeding anymore. 

"No, Kane, I'm Becky…" she said softly, like she was afraid of me.

"I thought you were Amber," I mumbled. She winced, like my words struck her. Her eyes lifted back up to mine and took on some transition, like they had right before we'd slept together.

"Kane, how could you do this to me?" she demanded. Her voice didn't sound concerned, just pissed off. "What do you think I _am_, Kane? Do you think I'm just some doll for you to use because you miss her? Well I miss _you_, Kane! I know that she's dead, I know, and I understand that, but you can't go using everyone else to make up for it! What? Do you think I'm just gonna sit out here and not say anything with you in there listening to some tragic song on repeat with the volume all the way up? How can you ask me to do that? I _care_ about you, Kane!! And then I come in here and you're arm is slashed up! What do you want me to do about that, Kane? Are you just gonna fuck me and then act like I'm some dog that you can kick around? What do you think I am?"

I glared at her. "I don't know, but you've got a lot of balls to say that to me."

"WHAT?" she looked outraged. "Why? Because I'm the first person that's sticking up for myself? Get yourself together, Kane! You can't just use people like you want to! The world doesn't revolve around you!"

"But it does," I almost said, but stopped myself. The world revolved around me. I was a brat and got what I wanted…I realized that, and felt suddenly invincible. I would apologize to her and she'd accept it and we would still be friends.

The expression on my face softened, I felt the muscles relax. I sighed. "I'm sorry, Becky," I said. "Really…I know I've been an asshole…just…I don't know. I'm confused."

Her face stayed hard and angry. "Well that's too fucking bad, Kane. I'm tired of this shit," she said, and pivoted, going through the kitchen and dining room, away from me. I ran down the other hallway and into the living room to meet her there. I stood in the doorway, watching her put on her shoes and grab her purse, watching her slip into her jacket. She was crying.

"Becky…" I said softly. She walked towards the doorway.

"Get the fuck out of my way," she said, frustrated, placing a hand on my chest and shoving me. She stormed through the foyer.

"Becky!" I said sharply. "Will you wait?! I want to talk to you!"

She stopped and turned around slowly, smiling like it was all some kind of irony. I saw the tears that stained her face, shining. My stomach twisted. "You want to talk to me? What about, Kane? Kane, I've never been so upset before and you don't even care. You don't care about me, all you care about is Amber."

"No…no, Becky, I do care about you, really…" I sounded so lost. I was at her mercy. 

"Then stay with me!" she sobbed. "I don't want to be alone…"

I reached out and touched her shoulder, afraid that I'd get blood on her so I didn't hug her, just gripped her with my hand. "Becky…" I didn't know what to say, just her name, coaxing, like a canticle. She wriggled out from under me, stepping backwards and away from me.

"Don't…" she said under her breath, and turned, walking down the short hallway from the foyer to the door. I heard the door open.

"Becky, wait!" I called, and ran the few steps it was to the hall, looking down it as I heard the door closed. But she was right. The world didn't revolve around me, not anymore. And she was gone.


	54. Bind of Blood

**Chapter 54**

I was halfway through my eighteenth bottle of Budweiser when the phone rang. The glass bottle slipped from my hand and onto the floor, the same place where Jake had staggered over to that time when he'd gotten drunk. I was sitting on the floor in the corner of the dining room, knees drawn up, my arm bandaged and clean. After Becky left I'd cleaned myself up before going shopping, mostly buying alcohol, also some minor other groceries, bread, toothpaste, sleeping pills…the girl who checked me out at the store eyed me suspiciously. I couldn't tell if it was because of my build or my height or my selection of purchases…maybe she watched wrestling and recognized me. I don't know. But I scowled at her and told her to stop gawking.

My limbs felt clumsy and weak as I got off the floor, walking to the phone, feeling like I was submerged in water. The heat of the alcohol rose in my cheeks, heated my neck. The phone was so loud in my ears, so repetitive, so menacing. 

"Hello?" I asked into it when I'd finally picked it up, staggering and falling, catching myself against the wall in the living room. I closed my eyes to keep the room from spinning, my feet feeling incredibly heavy as I stepped over to the couch and fell into it, not feeling it at all, just blackness and then the couch. 

"Kane…" the voice was deep and it took a moment for me to register that it was Mark. 

"Mark!" I exclaimed, childishly, laughing as I remembered who he was. "Hey…man." I felt a wave of nausea and held my stomach, feeling like I would vomit.

"You're drunk…" he said. I remember that he sounded a little discouraged. I felt horrible, knowing that I was drunk, knowing that he wasn't, in my mind able to think soberly but not being able to translate that to my body. "What are you drinking?"

"Umm…beer…" I answered, tasting it, looking into the next room at the empty bottles that were all over, and unopened ones in six packs that were on the table. I heard Mark groan through the phone and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling acidic tears forming, not from emotion, just from the inebriation, and tried to control myself.

"How many have you had?" he asked me.

"Eight-"

"Oh…"

"-teen." 

"Fucking Christ, Kane…" he cursed. "Don't drink any more. I'm coming over."

I laughed and told him okay, and he hung up the phone. I just sat there with it in my hand, looking at it, my stomach churning. I felt so sick and dizzy. The sour taste spread through me, and the phone slipped from my hand, falling on the floor. The room spun around me when I opened my eyes, blurring. I looked at the couch, seeing the pattern and texture of the fabric, seeing it suddenly rushing for my eyes. Then blackness. I had fallen over, not even realizing it until it was already done. 

The phone began to beep because it was off the hook. Amber. The phone. My stomach lurched in my body and I stood, stumbling through the apartment to the bathroom, collapsing on the ground, holding the sides of the bowl as I vomited. Tears squeezed through my eyes as it happened. I hated the feeling of doing that, but once it was done I felt better, the nausea gone, replaced by cold, replaced by thirst. I flushed the toilet and pulled myself up, wiping my eyes on my sleeve and walking into the dining room. I wanted to finish the beer that Mark had interrupted, even though he told me to stop. To me, I was completing what I'd told him. I told him that I'd had eighteen beers, when really I'd had seventeen and a half. So with that gratification I fell down onto the floor where I'd been sitting and kept drinking, reaching for the remote for the big stereo in the living room. I didn't want to hear the phone beeping anymore, it reminded me of Amber, though I was too numb to let it bother me. It still…pissed me off. 

Lazily I pointed the remote at the stereo, pushing the button to make the volume rise, the chaotic sounds of Mindless Self Indulgence fill the apartment. I heard a crowd cheering, and Jimmy Urine's amplified voice saying "Who you callin' a faggot? Yo, yo…yo, yo…when you out gay-bashing, I'm gonna  be at your house, fuckin' your girlfriend. In the ASS!" Then the track changed, random, to some song whose title I couldn't think of. It took me a moment to remember the title. Last Time I Tried to Rock Your World. I could feel the bass of the music rumbling in my chest, and the techno sounds of that particular song made me feel sick again, like I was moving too fast. Sweat broke out over my face and my body, I could feel it. So confusing everything was…

The glass bottle slipped out of my hand when it was empty, and I smacked it so that it would roll over to a collection of others, clinking against them. Without looking I reached up on the table for another drink, ripping the cap off and pouring the liquid into my mouth, uncaring that Mark didn't want me to drink. It was so…good. And I didn't even _like_ beer…it was just that the more you drank, the less the taste bothered you. The more you drank, the easier it was to just…drink more. And then…a little more than a minute into the song Harry Truman, the music sounded just slightly sad…that was where the alcohol wouldn't beat me.

I burst into tears. 

At the moment I didn't really know why I was crying but I just was, because I felt depressed, miserable, drunk…it took every ounce of strength in me to keep it in my head that Mark would be there, that he would save me and all that. I held myself and brought the mouth of the bottle to my lips, tipping it back, pouring it, swallowing half the bottle in one shot. The song Bitches came on. I wanted to be happy, wanted to listen to MSI and laugh, the reason why I put them on in the first place, because it was, as the name suggested, mindless. It was happy and laughter-worthy and blissful. Golden I came on. Then Royally Fucked. Backmask. Boomin'. By the time Mark had come in, I Hate Jimmy Page was playing. He let himself into the apartment because I hadn't locked the door, and had a wild, kind of concerned look in his eyes as I watched him walk into the living room. He didn't see me right away and stopped at the stereo, looking down at it for a moment before turning the volume down so that I could barely hear it. I finished drinking my sixth beer since we'd gotten off the phone and burped, unintentionally, not in any way to be rude but it just happened.

"Kane…" his eyebrows came together as he walked over to me. I looked up at him, seeing on and off blackness, like a slow strobe. One moment he was across the room, the next he was beside me, taking me by the arm and trying to pull me to my feet. He squeezed my forearm and I cursed.

"Ahh, fucker, that hurt," I hissed at him, drunkenly, falling against him as he tried to help me up. He caught me and held me in his arms. I could hear him crying but didn't know what I could do about it. I turned to look at him, his head turned away from me and looking down at my arm. I hadn't even noticed that he'd rolled up my sleep, and looked at my wounded skin, cuts etched in pale tissue. I didn't know what to do, was too drunk and mindless to know what to say to him. Suddenly I felt sick again.

I tried to walk past him, stumbling, falling, to let him catch me. He steadied me and tried to hold me still.

"I'm gonna fuckin' puke," I slurred, and his eyes widened. My sight blurred as he walked me to the bathroom. I fell to my knees and vomited, Mark gripping my shoulder. I knew that he didn't know how to be comforting. Our roles were usually reversed. I was the compassionate one, I knew how to comfort people because I'd been through so much shit myself. Mark was the level-headed, strong willed one, who only rarely found himself in situations that required help. 

When everything was over with I fell back, leaning against the wall. Mark flushed the toilet and knelt down beside me, grabbing my shoulders and trying to look into my eyes, but I was too distracted, my head rolling on my shoulders. 

"Why were you fucking drinking, Kane?" he asked me angrily. I knew he wasn't really angry, just frustrated with me. My eyelids felt weighed down and my head pounded with confusion. He pulled his hands away and clenched one in a fist, resting his forehead against his knuckles. His hair was down, and dark, and fell around him. His other hand was trembling. I felt so fucking bad.

"Because…" I tried to say. My tongue was made of lead. "Well…because of Amber…"

He closed his eyes as if I'd struck him. "Kane you really need to stop this."

"Stop what??" I demanded. "Where's Amber? I thought she was with you and Raven." Honestly I did, the alcohol screwing with my memory, with my purpose. Mark bit his bottom lip, jaw shaking a bit. He pulled me against him, hugging me without words. 

"Kane don't do this to me," he cried. I held him back weakly, confused as to why he was doing this. I felt like crying to, like some brainless idiot, crying just because he was and I didn't know what else to do. And then blackness.

The next morning I woke up with my stomach in my throat. I rolled out of bed, wearing boxers and a t-shirt and walked to the bathroom, still feeling a little wobbly as I vomited. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Mark, looking tired. When I was through I cleaned myself up and met him out in the hallway. He looked like he hadn't slept in years.

"What happened?" I asked casually, holding my stomach and leaning against the opposite wall from him. 

"What do you remember?"

"I remember…getting in a fight with Becky…going shopping, buying beer…coming back…getting drunk…" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "And I remember listening to MSI really loud and then you coming over…puking…you crying…that's pretty much it…"

"What else did you buy?" he asked me darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. I understood his body language. He wasn't asking because he wanted to know, he was asking because he wanted me to know that he knew. I groaned and shook my head, walking back into my room, my hand sliding along the wall for balance. "What else did you buy?" he repeated more firmly, standing in the doorway as I fell back into bed. My body seemed to spin but not the room, a big cyclone. I just closed my eyes, trying to lay as still as possible in hopes that it would go away.

"Umm…bread and Crest and some medicine. What's it to you?"

"Kane! Don't fucking treat me like an imbecile," he yelled. "Medicine! Yeah some real fucking medicine, Kane. You bought SLEEPING PILLS!"

My nerves tightened and I sighed, opening my eyes to look at him for a moment before I closed them again and turned away from him, hugging an extra pillow and curling into a fetal position. He knew. He fucking knew. He sighed from where he was and I heard his shoeless footsteps cross the floor. He walked around to my side of the bed (I was on Amber's) and sat down. 

"Kane…" he said calmly. I lifted my eyes to him. "I'm not mad at you. Just listen to me, okay. The reason I called you last night was because Becky went to Saphrin and told her what happened. I don't know what your memory has twisted it around to but she said that you two had sex, and that you freaked out on her, cut up your arm, and then thought she was Amber. And then you guys argued, and then she left. Saphrin called me and said she was worried about you, and after we got off the phone I blacked out cause I was…feeling things. And I had this vision of you getting drunk and overdosing on those goddamn pills."

I felt very inadequate to him, felt like I was a child being scolded, put on the spot. As he sighed it seemed that I was shrinking, like I was small and humiliated. 

"I don't want that happening," he said to me. "And if  I hadn't come over last night you'd be dead now…" he said this openly, not accusingly. Because, once again, he knew. He fully knew what was going on in _my_ head, things that shouldn't be known to anyone except me. He knew that I didn't care, he wholly understood my indifference to being alive. That if I were to die I wouldn't be afraid, and it wouldn't  bother me. Mark's eyes misted over, stormy, gray-green. 

"Sorry…" I said softly.

"No, Kane," he said, pushing his hair out of his face. "That's not the answer I want from you. I'm not scolding you for this, I understand how you feel and you're completely justified. _But_, I want you to instead tell me what you think that would do to me if you were gone."

"Hah," I scoffed, and looked away, rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling. "You could probably go out dancing. Like you fuckin' need me…"

"I do."

I turned to him abruptly, truly stricken by his words, under the impression that he could actually mean that. It was the first time I'd ever heard him admit something like that, and so easily. It was such a quick reaction to what I'd said. But no…

That was my given factor. I knew, that no matter what was going on, I was just some detachable branch of Mark's life. I was just some toy for him to amuse himself with. If Mark was in a good mood, I was his friend. He could give the dog a biscuit and a pat on the head and let me hang out with him. If he didn't want me around, he kicked me in the ribs and told me to fuck off and I understood. I didn't like it, but I understood, but then again, who _does_ like being someone's dog? Especially your brother. No one likes being dominated this way. No one, no matter who they are, likes being at other people's mercy. Mark…hated me, didn't he? That's what I'd always told myself, that on the inside he hated me, that when he told me he loved me it was just to make him look better in my eyes, that while we were friends it was just him wasting some time with his useless little brother, just the way things are with kids. Everyone knows that. With kids, it doesn't matter how tight two brothers can be, when friends come around, the older one is too good for you. I knew. I remembered countless times watching him through the window, watching him call me a freak just because he needed to be accepted, and running outside to join them in football. I remember watching them laugh at him and call him a faggot because of his black clothes and inverted crosses. He could kill all of them, easily, had the strength of our brute father. But when there were five of them he would come back into the house with a bloody nose and ignore me for weeks. I knew why they made fun of him…not his clothes, well, not _just_ his clothes. They made fun of him for his freak little brother, for the little monster that they all knew about. If I had died with our mother, Mark's life would've been so much easier…and if I died now, he wouldn't care. I always figured that he would be happy, that no matter how much we were getting alone he'd just see me as one less burden.

But that answer…it came so naturally and without thinking that I knew all my thoughts were untrue. Even with his con-artist alliances with me, he could never lie to me like that. I always could hear in his tone when he was lying to me. 

I blinked my eyes and just stared at him, not knowing what the hell I could say to him.

"You don't believe me…" he said, defeated. 

"No!" I protested quickly, adamantly. "No…actually…I do."

"Hah…why should you? I've treated you like shit for all our lives. You've been good to me and I've been an asshole to you. Why should you believe what I have to fucking say?" I saw the tears in his eyes. So rarely I saw him cry in our lives, and yet the past few weeks I'd seen it so often. 

"Because…I always knew when you were lying."

"You did?" he let out a small laugh to break the tension a little. "So why did you let me use you?"

"Because…" I stopped, realizing that I didn't know why. "Because…I had to. Because I love you. Because you're my brother."

"Right…" he said it light a grunt, and stretched, lying down on the bed next to me. "We're brothers…all that bind of blood shit, right?"

"Yeah…I suppose," I looked at him thoughtfully. "But why did you even bother being my friend? Don't…pretend, Mark. I know that you've always hated me. It was just convenient to pretend that I didn't know, and not tell Amber or anyone else."

"Because…" he started to laugh. "I had to. We're brothers."

"And what made you have this Kane-loving-epiphany?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Cause Amber was gone and…Claudette and Armand…" he looked unbearably sad. "And honestly, Kane…I might have hated you and all that, but I loved your daughter. She was like…okay this might sound kind of strange but to me, she was the purity of what you and I never had…I just feel horrible that she was ruined."

"Maybe it means that we'll never find peace…" I, obviously, didn't see, but I knew that my eyes must've grown distant as they fixed on Mark's, my mind traveling to memories.

"No. Maybe it means that we just have to stop being so fucking sentimental and not let this get us down."

"Right…"

"I'm serious…"

"You're always serious…" 

We both started to laugh. 

"No, really…" I said to him. "Don't just tell me that sappiness about my daughter. Why? Really…"

His eyes darkened. I knew the expression. I'd seen it on him that night on Valentine's Day when he'd come over to apologize to me. "Because…" he took a lengthy pause. "Our whole lives, I've had more than you. I'm older. I knew Mother longer before what happened. You're scarred, I'm not. Paul abused you and was afraid of me. I'm not…fucked up in the head, no offence, but you've got some psychological problems and shit…and then all of a sudden here you are, my little deformed brother who has always been some thorn in my side who followed me to the WWF and lived in my shadow by his own will…and you're out getting married and having friends and raising ducks and making babies…like you finally…became more than what I thought you were. Finally you disconnected from me and made your own life…and I guess I saw you as something else. And I was able to understand that. You  had more than me, I was at your mercy now, and you could've rubbed it in my face like I rubbed it in yours and you didn't 'cause you're a good person. And I love you for that, Kane. I really do."

"Thanks…" I uttered. My voice was gone. We just stared at each other as the hangover wrestled my body. The last thing I remember seeing was his eyes as I fell back asleep.


	55. Over: My Golden Queen

**Chapter 55**

Hollow xylophone chiming met my ears. I felt a wave of nausea as I sat up, not recognizing my surroundings. The music was so hollow, echoing off unbounded shining walls, white, glares from light bouncing all around, yet I could not find the source. I leaned on my elbows, narrowing my eyes, the walls around me constricting, the floor cold. The ceiling was all clean, clear glass, leading to blue skies. The beauty of it cause my breath to catch. The music continued, sounding slightly like a music box until I heard Maynard's voice. "_Been over…been over this before…_"

I ran my hands through my hair, realizing that I wore the glove and gauntlet that I would wear to the ring, looking down at my body to be met with bright red, stretching clothes which I wore when I wrestled, one sleeve, transparent slashes across the chest. 

"_Been over and over…been over this before_…"

A Perfect Circle. For some reason I realized it this time. I could think clearly. I remember. Thinking of You. Thomas. Now it was Over. I was dreaming.

I pushed myself off the ground, lifting my knee. The moment my heavy wrestling boot contacted the floor, the heavy piano came on, loud, swallowing me. But it was a dream, I knew it, and tried not to panic.

"Amber?" I called out. My voice didn't echo back, seemed to be absorbed by the song. I knew that she must've been there, she had to be. I bit my lip, feeling the leather of my mask covering my face as I took a step forward, looking up, my head tilting back to see the glass ceiling. As I looked, the skies darkened, clouds drifting in, ominous and black, making the room fill with shadows. 

"_And over…been over this before_…"

I couldn't suppress a sigh, wondering perhaps that she wouldn't come. I didn't want to lose faith in her, and I did believe in her…but it seemed to take so long, though it was perhaps seconds. I wanted her. I missed her completely too much to believe that she wouldn't come as she had before. I'd seen her twice already in dreams with A Perfect Circle, and both times she'd been panicked. Both times I'd been panicked, too. But I didn't want to be. I knew what was going on. I felt calm, I didn't want this to be the end. The clouds hanging above me wouldn't make me scared, I told myself that.

"_So over this…been over this…so over this…been over this…so over this before…_"

Light started to fill the room from the corner. I turned slowly, faintly nervous to see what it was, just seeing gold in the corner of my eye, and bright yellow light coming from it. The crescendo of the song came as I turned, the echoing chimes stopping, a greater sound from beneath creeping, becoming louder. Random vocals from different songs blended together as the sound increased, rattling my ears. As I pivoted and came to a stop, so did the music, abruptly. 

Gold robes. Long gold robes like Greek togas, held together over her chest with some type of modern Gothic corset. I felt myself smile, softly, and some type of breeze came from behind her, pushing the fabric up in ripples. Her face remained expressionless as I walked toward her, calm, eased by the gentleness of her presence. She wore a small tiara, and that two was gold and very simple, only one piece of it showing through her purple hair. 

"You came…" I stated. It was an observation, not surprised, because I'd expected her to come.

"You're smiling, aren't you? I can tell by the way your mask just moved," her voice sounded young, brilliant, happy, though her face bore no change. I nodded, pressing my lips together, wanting to be happy for her.

"Yeah…I guess I did."

I reached over and let my fingers graze her cheek. Warm skin, soft. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to the side slightly. "You miss me," she said without emotion. Her eyes lifted to look up at me. I bit my bottom lip hard, refusing to cry, refusing to let this touch of heaven be ruined. I simply nodded my head. 

The breeze that came from behind her was warm, summer air, loosening my muscles. I reached my hand up, sliding it down to her neck, then up around the back of her head, my fingers woven in her hair. Oh…I really did miss her. I missed having her in my arms, I missed her warmth.

"I love you," I said softly, wrapping my other arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me. I felt her small arms embrace me as well, felt like I would have a heart attack. Everything was racing.

"Calm down…" she said softly. I pulled away just enough to be able to look down at her. She lifted her head to look at me as well, and smiled just barely, something that only I would notice, the slight change in her eyes, the way the corners just tightened a little. She put one of her hands on my chest, sliding it up and to my neck, her fingertips placed just barely under my mask, touching the hair of my goatee. I reached up and lifted the bottom of the mask, so that my mouth was exposed, remembering that night on Raw when we'd had the tag match. I leaned down and kissed her, soothed by the opposite of the cold I'd felt the past few times I'd contacted her physically. I moaned, and she giggled through it. 

How long it last I'm not sure, but we remained fused like that for an eternity to me, something I treasured. When it was over, I kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in mine, kissing her wrists, her fingertips, her knuckles. "You are my Queen," I said to her softly, between my lavish blessings.

"Your queen?" she raised one eyebrow and smiled crookedly, in a very flourishing gesture raising her arms to put them around me, hugging me, holding my head against her chest. She slowly sank to her knees, shifting her arms so that they were around my neck and she was lying across my lap. "That means you'll do what I tell you?"

I nodded. "Anything, Amber…anything…"

"Take care of Jake."

I looked down at her, my eyes widening. She arched her neck and lay across me, stretching. 

"You've been ignoring him, haven't you?" 

I swallowed. "Yeah…kind of…"

"Don't do that," she said, and laughed a little. "If you love me, you'll love him. You remember why we have him, right?"

"Because you asked for him…" I said, my mind wandering, remembering how out of she'd been in the hospital, but that I didn't care and did whatever I could for her. "And because I loved you enough not to care that you were drugged and didn't know what the hell you were saying…"

"You really love me, don't you?" 

"Yes…" the more I tried not to let it get to me, the more dead my voice sounded. She reached up and curled a strand of my hair around her finger, barely tugging on it. I inhaled sharply, feeling the pain in my scalp as she did it, wishing that we could stay there forever. I didn't want to let her go, didn't want her to ever let go of me. She hummed something very quietly to herself, thinly, sweetly, her voice honey and sunshine and bells. The room was so dark, yet she lit it up, her gold radiating light, life, voice seeming to stream colors into the air, like Fantasia's shapes, twirling abstractly, winding around me, binding us together with nonexistent strings, chords.

She started to sing, very softly, in a high, perfect voice that beat Melora's. "I'm the lucky one, always having fun, I tie back my hair…" Rasputina, Watch T.V. I sighed and pushed hair away from her face, my hands traveling over her body, one resting on her hip, the other underneath her, in the small of her back. I savored this, her warmth, her shape beneath me. "I sit and watch T.V., I see only me, though I look for you there. Oh, where have you gone? Were you canceled? I change to channel two. You were the one who gave me all my answers. I changed, so did you. Try another show, with the volume low. I make up what they say. Where it used to be your face, is an empty space. Your co-stars look away. Oh, where have you gone, and do you miss me? And what we used to do? You were the one who'd talk and smile for half an hour, always new," she paused. She knew that I was crying. She always hated when I cried, and at the same time used to tell me how beautiful the tears were. Her hands reached around behind me and slipped off the mask, pulling me down towards her, kissing my cheek. I thought of the first time she'd seen my face, saying that I looked like a raccoon. I laughed bitterly as she continued singing. "I'm the lucky one, I watch re-run, it looks a lot like you. One star lost a family, one family lost a star. That's why I wait and watch to find out where you are. One family lost a star, one star, they lost a family. That's why I sit at home alone and watch T.V." As she sang the rest of the song it seemed that her light became brighter and brighter. "I can watch forever. I can watch for hours. It just gets better. It gives me power. I can watch for hours. I can watch forever. It gives me pleasure. It makes me…better. I'm the lucky one, always having fun…"

"Amber no," I said, blinded, the light brighter so that all I saw was white. I held her body against me, flexing my fingers, trying to keep her close, in touch, but the warmth faded as well. I started to scream. 

"Kane, Kane!" someone was shaking my shoulders. I thrashed my arms, unable to see, shouting. "Kane, stop! Kane calm down it's just a dream!" 

Slowly the light faded and I saw purple and blue splattered paint on the ceiling, and…Raven. I rubbed my eyes and groaned.

"Shit, dude…" I moaned, shoving him away. "What the hell? Fuckin'…cocksucker…"

Raven scratched his head, looking kind of clueless. "Mark had to leave so he asked me if I'd come over and keep an eye on you…he said you were probably really hung over."

"Oh…" I got out of bed, slowly so that I wouldn't fall over or anything. "Yeah, I am." 

He just stared at me as I walked past him and into the kitchen, seeing that the cabinets were filled with food. Mark must've gone shopping for me, or told Raven to. I sighed put pieces of the bread I'd bought the night before into the toaster. Raven followed me into the room, leaning against one of the counters.

"So where did Mark go?" I asked casually.

"Raw. D.C."

Why this bothered me, I don't know. I felt my throat tighten, and felt suddenly very alone. But I scolded myself inwardly, knowing that I shouldn't be surprised. It was his job, there was no reason for him to stick around forever. Raven pulled away from fraying strings from the ripped sleeves of his shirt. 

"Umm…me and Saphrin are going to leave for the road again tonight…" he said. I could tell by his tone that he felt bad doing it. "Are you coming?"

The world seemed to stop moving. I hadn't even _thought_ about wrestling. My words didn't come to me as I stared at him. Wrestling…for the first time since I'd started I actually questioned it, whether or not I still wanted to wrestle. All I could do was stare at Raven.

"Vince will probably be really lenient with you?" he said, the strings from his shirt falling through his fingers and floating down to the floor. He leaned up from the counter, grabbing a cup from one of the cabinets and walking to the refrigerator, pouring himself orange juice. "He was really loose with us, too, but I mean…we can't just take as long as we want to grieve. If we're going to live through this…we have to keep living, you know? And I don't want to test him. He's not paying us to take unscheduled weeks off. So…we're gonna go back tonight and make it to a house show tomorrow afternoon."

"Shit," I mumbled. The bell on the toaster went off and I could smell the toast, but I'd lost my appetite. "I haven't even thought about that this whole time…fuck."

"What are you going to do?" he asked. He was so quiet. I felt horrible, knowing why, knowing that he was, more or less, afraid of me. Not that he shouldn't have been. I'd been a real asshole to him. 

"Umm…I don't know," I said, taking the toast and dropping it onto a plate. I picked at it, peeling away the crust. "I'll call Vince tonight and talk to him."

"Saphrin wants to see you before we leave…she didn't come with me though, she drove Mark and Becky to the airport."

"Becky?" I exhaled deeply. "Jesus Christ I've been _such_ a dick!" I exclaimed. Raven cracked a smile.

"You seem to be in a good mood…" he said, and took another sip of his orange juice.

"Uh…yeah, I had a good dream," I said off-handedly. "Is she going home?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Where's Jake?"

"He's here. He was at the hotel with us…you were being really negligent, you know…"

"Yeah…" I cursed under my breath and kicked the refrigerator. "Sorry. My head…hasn't been where it should be. What about Sugarbear? And…Evan?" I almost couldn't say the child's name, thinking of Armand.

"They're here too…in the living room. I was with them but I heard you yelling so I came to make sure everything was alright…"

For a while we just talked there until he heard Evan crying, and we went into the living room. Jake seemed cautious around me, which made me feel even worse than I already did. I gave him his space, not wanting to annoy him or anything. Sugarbear was in a little box on the table, just…sitting there like he usually did, occasionally making noise or moving. For the most part he remained pretty calm. 

Later in the afternoon Saphrin came over and made an early dinner. She seemed calm, unshaken by everything and ignoring the fact that on and off I'd treated her like shit. She was a good friend. Both of them were, waiting on me in my own home. She gave me a hug goodbye, telling me to just calm down and she'd call me when they got where they were going. After they left I walked in circles in the apartment, through the foyer and down the hall, through the kitchen and dining room, through the living room and back into the foyer, over and over. It was a small apartment, made for a small family, which we were. We didn't need luxury apartments, even though we could afford them. Our apartment was luxurious enough, even if it was small. After about an hour I grabbed the phone, pacing back and forth in the living room with it in my hand. Finally I dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Vince? It's Kane…"

"Oh…" he sounded surprised. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay…but I wanted to talk to you about my contract…" the pit of my stomach tightened.

"Oh…alright. What is it?"

"I don't want to wrestle anymore."

"Kane…" he negotiated. "Are you sure about that? I mean…it could be just the thing to get you back in your right mind after what's happened."

"I'm sure, Vince. I don't want to wrestle anymore. I…I can't do it. It reminds me too much of her…"

He sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you what…I won't hold you to any ties with your contract. You stop wrestling and I'll keep you in mind and when you decide that you want to again you just give me a call. Does that sound okay?"

I paused. By saying yes, like I wanted to, I wouldn't have a job. I didn't want it…really I didn't, but I wondered if perhaps I was making the wrong decision. Eh. "Yes. Thanks, Vince…"

"Right. Well, Kane, I hope you're successful in your future…good luck." 

"Thanks," I said, and hung up the phone. I dropped it on the floor, a soft sound coming as it hit the carpet. I shivered, cold, and knelt next to the fire place, lighting a fire. There was nothing to do, now. I was bored. My mind fought me, making me wonder if I should've kept my job. Because now I was alone, in my apartment, without a daughter to play with or a wife to have sex with and my brother, my friends, were all on the road wrestling. 

"Well Jake," I said, turning to look at him from where he sat under a chair. "It's just the two of us now."

The fire made my face feel hot, and I was struck by cold when I turned my head. I caught a glimpse of the window. There was snow on the building beside us. Snow. Snow snow snow.

"Oh, shit…" I said out loud, and stood quickly, running to the bedroom and picking up my jacket from the floor. I searched the pockets, pulling out a white envelope, thick and heavy. Sweat broke out over my head and I wiped it away with my hand, slowly walking back into the living room and sitting down in front of the fire. I sat cross-legged, staring at the flames, then down at the envelope in my hands. Back and forth, back and forth. My hands trembled as I finally pushed the flap back, seeing the gloss of the first picture, the one on the top. I looked at the flames, letting my hands guide the pictures away, discarding the envelope onto the floor. When I looked down I actually laughed.

It was of Raven, in a dressing room, laying on the floor, Sugarbear nesting in his hair. I couldn't help but to smile, his face placid. I turned to the next picture, holding my breath as I was met with Amber, upside down, hanging off the side of a bed. Saphrin must've taken it because I didn't remember it. After that one came the snow. Claudette in the snow, her cheeks full of red, bundled up in her puffy jacket and with her big white snow boots. I clenched my jaw, turning the next picture to see…me. Me holding Claudette, my hair down, one of Claudette's hands in it. I was smiling, my teeth showing, straight, with only the tiny flaw of a small gap. I could've easily gotten it fixed but Amber had always said it was cute. Claudette was laughing, her mouth open, a semi-circle, blissful smile, her eyes squinted with small wrinkles around them. I stared at my face, my skin, letting my eyes travel over it, examining. The area around my eyes wasn't so bad, nor was my mouth. My cheeks, my forehead, the bridge of my nose…all scarred, all hideous. I cringed and took the picture in my two hands, ripping it diagonally so that my head came right off, Claudette still in the image. I threw the other piece into the fire, satisfied as it melted and collapsed, as it _burned_.

The next picture was Amber with the midsection of the snowman, laughing, her breath in the air in front of her. The one after that was Claudette, just sitting in the snow and looking happily ignorant. Then one of just me, one hand in my pocket, the other holding a snowball. I growled at myself and threw the picture into the fire, the colors dripping before turning orange, then gold, then brown. There were pictures of Amber making a snow angel, of Claudette…laying in the snow with a half-snow angel. There was a picture of me and Amber that I had taken, my arm outstretched in the picture. I ripped it in half, placing Amber in the pile beside me and throwing the section with me to be eaten by flames. 

After weeding out all my pictures and burning them I just stared at the pictures, looking down at Claudette and Amber, my finger tracing over her abdomen. My son. My fucking son.


	56. Set Blue Skies Aflame

**Chapter 56**

Some days were better than others. 

Some days I could just get up and function, I would work out and go out and say hi to Mike and go to the library and hang out there reading for as long as I could until I made myself go home. I would go shopping, buying things that I didn't need yet had the money for even though I wasn't even employed, just to waste time, just so that they would end up unused in a pile in the foyer. I learned how to kill the day with tasks to keep myself busy and not think about them. I'd wear myself out a so much from working out that I would fall asleep instantly and didn't have to lie there and give myself the chance to be miserable. I didn't have the time to think about Amber in any more than a vague consideration, doing everything in my own power to not let it hurt me…but sometimes it was just so hard…

Like I said, some days were better than others, which inevitably meant that some could be worse, which was just really bad and terrible and hard to like through. It would make me feel like I'd been hit by a truck, aching. It was hard to breathe, painful to think. I would hyperventilate and get nose bleeds. Everything would be wrong, nothing would work out. I would go in Claudette's room and be on the floor in tears for hours at a time, trying to separate fiction from reality, trying to peel away the layers of what I wished would happen by some force of miracle and what was actually happening. Days like these were actually dangerous…if Mark hadn't called me on those nights I don't know what could've happened. Knowing myself I think I may have starved to death, forgetting what I was doing, not realizing that I was hungry, unaware of what was going on. I had falling into these states several times, once on the floor in Claudette's room, another time walking in circles around the apartment for hours. I also had sat in the corner of the dining room where Jake had gotten drunk and where I had gotten drunk that once, and also in the short hallway between the foyer and the door, staring at it, just waiting for Amber to come home as if she'd only gone out grocery shopping or something.

Mark knew when this was going on. He'd sense it from across the country or wherever he was and call me. The phone always interrupted my concentration on misery. Normally the conversations went like this:

Me: Hello?

Mark: Kane…it's Mark

Me: Oh…hi…

Mark: Are you okay?

Me: Not really…but I'll survive.

Mark: You didn't try anything stupid, did you?

Me: I don't…think so…I've just been hanging out. Chillin'. (I made such desperate attempts at humor, trying in vain to feel better)

Mark: Have you had dinner or anything?

Me: No.

Mark: Have you fed Jake?

Me: I was just about to, actually. (Every time I lied about him. I still don't know whether or not he detected it over the phone)

Mark: Are you sure you're okay?

Me: No… (at this point I'd get choked up)

Mark: Kane…clean up. Put on some music, feed Jake, have dinner…just relax, Kane. I don't want you to hurt yourself.

Me: I'm not hurting myself.

Mark: Kane…you haven't been eating and you're not taking care of yourself, you're hurting yourself. Calm down, don't forget to breathe.

Me: Okay…

Mark: You promise?

Me: Yeah…

Mark: I'm not joking. Do you swear? I'm not convinced.

Me: Yes. Yes, Mark, I swear.

Mark: Okay…I have to go. I'll come visit.

Every couple of weeks he would come by and check on me and spend a night or two. He always told me that he would and always kept his word. Every time we got off the phone I'd put on some kind of mellow music, even if it was really sad, and then would hunt out Jake. Ever since what had happened he'd seemed very timid around me. Even then he seemed like he didn't know what to do, hesitant. I'd pick him up and pet him, remembering the way Amber would do it…usually he'd calm down. But he never seemed genuinely happy. I didn't have the touch with him that Amber did.

I would feed him then. And make myself dinner, trying to put away my pounding headache, try to ignore the fact that I was eating alone, by myself, that no one else was at the table. And the food wasn't good. I burned everything, or it was undercooked, or wasn't seasoned right. Amber always made everything perfect. My culinary talent went as far as Hot Pockets and Ramen Noodles, I couldn't even make grilled cheese or eggs without fucking up. But I tried, I went in the kitchen and went through the groceries, enough for three people, and made dinner so that it would be enough for three people, and made the table with three places. I don't know why. I did it on impulse and it never made me more upset so I figured it didn't hurt. It just made me calmer.

All I would ever drink during dinner was soda and no ice. Coca Cola. I would buy bottles of it. More than I could ever need, and normally ended up throwing them out because they'd get too old. When I ate I tried to swallow my pain with my overcooked food, tried to put it away somewhere where I could keep it at bay and ignore it. I tried not to think, not to acknowledge, not to feel. I wanted to be dead on the inside, then nothing would've bothered me. Then I could go wrestle and be fine, and pass my time, and live for no reason. Live…I didn't know why I bothered.

Suicide was something that I thought about often. It became more of a dream, a fantasy, more than a desperate measure. I didn't think of suicide as miserable, as I had in the past, something that would just put an end to everything. I thought of it as something beautiful, lucid visions of a Heaven that I didn't think existed, of Claudette and Armand, of Amber…oh God of Amber…I wanted to join them there, wanted to love her again, not hate her for leaving me, wanted to play with my daughter instead of cursing her for being so weak, to be with my son instead of scolding him for never being born. 

To die would have been fantastic. It was warmth, the same kind of warmth I remember feeling when I first met Amber, when we were first together and I was so excited and scared and in love. I was scared that she would hurt me, betray me like all the others, and yet…and yet I let my guard down, years later when I was finally broken in and trusted her, and she went and got murdered. I hated that. I felt screwed over, yet again, and not necessarily by her, but by some higher power, some God that I questioned who must've had a fucking twisted sense of humor. If I could've met the guy I would've spit in his face. 

But whenever I considered actually committing the act, not just thought about it like it was some blissful playground but something filthier, like blood and gunpowder and ropes and blades and drugs, I would become suddenly frightened. Not of dying, I wasn't afraid of dying at all, but of my brother, of Raven and Saphrin. I would find some retrospect from their eyes and think about losing their two best friends. Amber had died and I had basically gone with her, but I was still alive. I knew that every day they would wish that I would give them a call or miraculously appear back on the road, that I would snap out of it. But if I were to just die…I felt horrible and didn't want to put them through that. And Mark…he was an unreadable factor. I didn't know what to think when it came to him, didn't know how he'd react. And I was afraid of him in that way.

There was one final thing that kept me alive, too…that detective. James. He called me now and then to ask me more questions, working on the case and trying to think of anything he could, though slowly things were losing interest. He never told me this, but I knew. There were no leads or traces, and unless there was a similar type of murder somewhere else they would have no grounds to decide the motive of the person. While I was terribly aggravated and angry from this I didn't really let it bring me down. I felt, somewhere in what was left of my heart, that I would find revenge someday. It was just a matter of when. I needed to be patient.

Saphrin called me now and then. She always seemed kind of distant from me. Even on good moments where we got along, ever since Amber died there had been some gap in our relationship. I didn't know if what had happened had taken a substantial amount of spark from her personality or if it was just when she talked to me, but she didn't seem the bubbly, funny Juggalette that I had once known.  I didn't know if Amber dying had hurt her happiness or just made it so that she couldn't talk to me without feeling pain. She only called because she had to, I could tell that she didn't really want to. It was a task, something that she felt her responsibility and both of us knew it but didn't change it. Raven, on the other hand, seemed almost heightened by what had happened. Not in a good way, but he'd become so much nicer, and so much more caring. He would call and mean every word he said when he said he missed my company, silently asking that I come back. He meant it when he said that he cared about me. 

Maybe it was just me. 

By early May I had lost a lot of weight…I had been working out a lot but at the same time not taking care of myself, not eating right, well, not eating at all, and I kept getting sick and not realizing it. I remember one specific day…it hurts my head just thinking about it.  I woke up on the couch, in rumpled clothes, waking suddenly as though strangled by a nightmare, just sitting up quickly and gasping for air, and seeing the pallid ceiling…it occurred to me then that our anniversary was coming up, in only days, and I scolded myself for completely forgetting as I stumbled up and ran around the apartment trying to get dressed. Everything was a mess, there were clothes all over, and dishes, and books. I left Claudette's room as it was, and didn't touch Amber's things, but everything else was strewn about at random. 

I put on my mask and smeared a mess of greasepaint over my eyes, shoving credit cards in my pockets and rushing out of the apartment, angry at myself for forgetting. It was chilly out, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything just then, except that I was an idiot, that I needed to hurry because Amber would be home and get pissed off at me for not having her presents. Strange. I mean seriously- what kind of a husband _was_ I anyway? I wake up late on our wedding anniversary and don't even have a present for my wife? Oh Christ she was gonna be mad at me. I was breathing really heavily, exhausting myself from running down the stairs in the building and down the street, also strained by the cold in the air. All around people were staring. I wanted to kill them, smear their brains on the fucking brick walls of the buildings. Bastards, staring at me. Staring at me because I was different, I wasn't like them and I wasn't some conservative American with a perfect family. And they were right- No, I wasn't. I wasn't like them at all. I had long hair and I hated them and my wife probably hated me cause I was so bad at being a husband that I forgot our anniversary.

Of course…I know better now. Obviously they were staring because there was some seven foot tall guy in a mask running around like a psycho. I don't blame them. I would've stared, too.

There was a clothing store several blocks from where I was, which was my target. Clothes and jewelry and all that, and I wanted to shower her with presents. I had to, I didn't want to risk losing her. I could only imagine her having these beautiful presents for me and coming home with boxfuls of gifts, and then me looking up at her like some stupid animal so that she would slap me and take our children and storm out of the house. I would never see her again, she'd be so angry. I didn't want that, and I had to hurry before they came home. 

I hated all the people that stared at me as I rushed by, wanted to kill them all. I did my best to ignore them as I hurried to the store, almost diving in through the doors. The smell almost knocked me off my feet, the scent of mixed perfumes. It reminded me of the divas' locker room, that Amber and Saphrin were offered if they wanted to use it but always just used one with me, Mark, and Raven. It made me think of being on the road, being part of our little group, which would never be the same. Never the same because I'd forgotten about our anniversary and she would never want to see my face again. I stormed through the store to the women's section, madly searching through racks of blouses and dresses and skirts looking for things that she would like, taking anything that I thought would look nice on her and hanging them over my forearm as I searched for more. 

In my possession by the time I was ready to leave were five shirts, two pairs of pants, three bras, three skirts, a few pairs of stockings that I thought she'd like. I looked up at the huge clock on the wall and knew I'd have to hurry. But in fear that I would be late I made it up by rushing over to the children's section, taking a small box of barrettes and a new pair of white little sneakers and a pink overall dress. Claudette would've looked adorable in it. I was going to buy some things for Armand but figured that he was too small to fit in any of the clothes in the store, which only supported toddlers. 

Near the front of the store I dumped the heap of clothes on the counter to pay for them. The cashier was a guy, maybe in his early twenties, who looked sort of horrified, with a look of recognition in his eyes. I shook my head impatiently as I took the credit card out of my wallet. I knew he recognized me from wrestling.

"Yeah, yeah I know Amber's gonna be pissed," I scolded, "so hurry the fuck up! You're being too slow!" What I didn't realize then was that he recognized me as Amber's widower, put together that I was buying a ton of women's clothes and clothes for children. I just thought that he knew our anniversary and was worried for me the way I was worried for myself. I tapped my foot impatiently as he slipped the clothes into the thing cardboard boxes and bagged them, as he accepted my card and let me leave. As I was pushing through the doors I saw that he'd left his post at the register and was speaking with one of the managers, pointing at me. They started walking towards me and I ran, full throttle at least half the length it took to the apartment. Had I been taking care of myself I probably wouldn't have gotten exhausted to easily. I had been in excellent shape, but that wasn't the case anymore. 

Once I got to the apartment I rushed into our bedroom before Amber could spot the presents, and dragged out the huge box of wrapping paper that she kept under the bed. I had never been good at wrapping gifts. As I struggled with it I called out to Amber, she was making lunch for us in the kitchen. I could hear the pans rattling around and smelled the food.

"I'll be there in a sec, I just gotta take care of something," I called to her, not wanting her to get pissed at me. I heard Claudette crying from the living room. "Hey Amber can you take care of her? I'm really sorry I've gotta wrap these presents that I bought for you!" I said, and heard her footsteps leave the kitchen, seconds later hearing Claudette calm down a little, and Amber singing to her. "Is everything okay?" I asked, wrestling with the tape and the paper and getting exceedingly frustrated. 

"Yeah, she just fell down," Amber said back to me. Her voice was so beautiful. It actually almost made me hard to just hear her speaking. 

"Oh, okay," I said. I finished up wrapping the presents, not bothering to wrap the ones for Claudette as I shoved all the stuff back in the box and back under the bed. I loaded my arms with the gifts and walked out into the foyer, just missing Amber as she went back into the kitchen. I put all the stuff down on the couch. Claudette was wearing a purple dress with white socks, no shoes, and had her hair combed around her face. She smiled up at me, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV and watching cartoons. Her smile was huge, her tiny square teeth bright. There were still some remnants of tears, crystals on her eyelashes, bringing out how green her eyes were. I sighed in ecstasy and knelt beside her, picking her up and hugging her. She hugged me back around my neck. She was so small…

"Daddeee…" she said. She always said that to me. I laughed a little bit and put her back down.

"Hello lovely," I said to her, and stood up. I heard Amber humming in the kitchen, and frying food. I heard the slaps of Jake's feet on the floor and his quacks of approval. I walked to join her.

Amber…

Amber.

She was standing over the stove, hair wet and vibrant, and I could smell Punky Colour hair dye, that fruity smell that nearly knocks you out every time you open a can. I could tell that she'd just redyed it. She was wearing really tight blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. Very simple. It showed off her body, and the small bulge that was forming over her abs. I couldn't help my ear-to-ear smile as I hugged her from behind, and she let her head fall back against my chest.

"Happy anniversary," she said to me. I leaned down over her and kissed her temple. 

"You too," I felt my heart flutter, felt the wetness of her hair on my cheek, smelled the scent so strongly. "I love you, Amber. More than you'll ever know."

She laughed. "Well then, you too," she told me, stealing my response. "So didja get me a present?" she was laughing, and sautéing onions and peppers, grabbing the pan and flipping them around a little. 

"Of course I did. Did you get me something?"

"Sure," she laughed, putting down the pan and turning around to face me. She leaned in against my body. "You're really not much use if you aren't going to spoil me with gifts, you know," she said. I could tell that she was joking, which made me feel better. I knew that she wouldn't care if I'd been late in buying her things. I wrapped my arms around her, over her shoulders, my hands resting on her back. 

"You're so beautiful," I told her. 

"Well you're certainly the one of compliments today, aren't you?" she put one of her hands on my shoulder. "Thank you, my darling. You're quite beautiful yourself."

I let out a soft note of laughter under my breath, kissing her again, on the forehead. We just stared at each other for a moment until she slipped away, turning back to the stove. 

"Can you please get me a bowl?" she asked sweetly. I said nothing in response, only turned away from her, crossing the room and opening one of the cabinets. I grabbed a serving bowl for her, closing the cabinet as I turned back around.

"What do you need it f-" my words stopped when she was gone. No one was there, not Amber, not the smell of her hair dye, not the pan on the stove with the onions and peppers and not any of her spices on the counter. My head was slammed with an unbearable pain and I stumbled backwards, the bowl slipping from my hands and falling onto the floor, breaking into a handful of pieces. I stepped right over them and into the living room, the television off, Claudette gone, purple dress and green eyes and all. The poorly wrapped boxes were still in a pile on the couch. I bit the back of my knuckles and started to cry.

"Amber??" I said softly. The silence killed me. "Amber?" I said again, loud. I fell down onto the floor. "Amber!! Amber were are you!? Come back!" I screamed, sobbing. I ripped off my mask and threw it across the room, hearing the soft sound as it hit a large mirror that covered one of the walls. I lifted my head to see it landed on top of the television, folded over, dead. I stood up, the tears stopping but those that had fallen still on my face, walking over and picking up my mask. I stared down at it in my hands for a few minutes until just throwing it on the floor. It wasn't doing anything for me. My head snapped up to look at my reflection, the greasepaint not only smeared from being applied but running from the tears. Black tears. 

My fist had contacted and broken the glass before I'd even realized it. Now the cracks gave my face different planes, so that it didn't line up right. So that I screamed and punched it again, making it quite like a spider web. 

I had imagined Amber being there. I was stupid. I had forgotten our anniversary until the last second and therefore become just another stereotypical _man_. I was an idiot. Amber talked about me with her friends, probably. Made fun of me and talked about how much she couldn't stand me, how I was only good for sex, how I was ugly. That was why she wasn't at the apartment, because she didn't want to be near me. She was in Vermont with our kids, having just a jolly time and swimming in the fact that I wasn't there with her. Probably celebrating it with some guy, with some other wrestler. It could've been anyone that she wanted to fuck around with behind my back, Hunter, Jeff, Steve, Paul…how should I have known? But I loved her so much…

That was the only reason she wasn't there. She thought I didn't love her. If I loved her I would've been planning _our_ day, May 10, for weeks now, not just hours. My face broke out in sweat. I remembered the birth of our relationship. She had really loved me. I needed her to love me like that again. I was going to prove to her that I still loved her, that my negligence was just a mistake, that from then on we could be happy together. I ran to our room, grabbing a backpack from the closet and shoving in a handful of CD's, a portable Discman, my wallet. I also ran into the bathroom to clean up my hand, noticing the few lasting marks on my arms from weeks before. For a moment I didn't remember why they were there, and searched my mind, then realized that I was wasting time. I didn't bother getting the presents and just ran out of the apartment and down the street, hailing a taxi to bring me to the airport.

With my credit cards and ID I was able to plant myself on a flight to Boston within the hour, first class because normal planes are so damn small. Well…small for someone of my size. 

I checked through security, only bringing my one bag, very easily, rushing over to the gate and tapping my foot the whole time I waited. I turned down their offered bagged lunch for the four-hour flight and just got on the plane as soon as I could, curling away from everyone else there, happy that no one was in the seat next to me as I stared out the window. The take off made me anxious, the way the plane speeds up so goddamn fast and then just lifts off the ground. You can feel yourself fall down into the seat as it lifts, and then watch everything just get smaller and smaller, until cars look like tiny ants on the highway, and then to the point where the only vehicles you can make out is just barely if you look hard enough, a sixteen-wheeler that looks quite like a flea. Once we were fully in the air I closed the cover on the window and dug through the bag for the Discman, then through the CD's to see what I'd randomly taken. They were mostly all mixes, thrown in there with a Bella Morte disc, also David Bowie, Pantera, Tool…she had such a strange taste in music. I shared it, but she was the one who went out and bought all the craziness. Of the mixes, I found one that belonged to Saphrin and chose that one, because I wanted to keep my mind off Amber for the moment. It would've made me nervous and I was already anxious on the plane. I wanted to just be calm, so settled down listening to a mix from various artist on Psychopathic Records. 

In listening to a variation of rap and rock, strange beats and heavy riffs, I fell asleep.

When I woke up one of the flight attendants had her hand on my shoulder and was shaking me, telling me that we'd be landing soon and would I please turn off the Discman. I nodded, and looked away from her because she was looking away from me, and just stared out the window. It wasn't quite night yet, but getting dark. Everything was becoming some shade of blue, and I made out all the lights beneath getting bigger and brighter as we landed. 

 Because I didn't have any bags to pick up I was able to skip all the baggage claim bullshit and just run outside to the taxi. It was chilly out, and drizzling. I knew that the cab fare was going to be monstrous but honestly I didn't care, and it was good because he had a credit card reader. I didn't even want to know how much it was costing me, didn't really care. I just kept listening to music and turned away from the driver, not wanting him to stare at me or be afraid of me. I just wanted him to leave me alone, drive me to my house. 

It's funny with the CD I was listening to, the one that Saphrin made. Some of it was so obnoxious and funny and made me actually crack a smile, but at the same time, some of it was so serious that I almost started to cry. It showed that the artists (on that particular CD only Insane Clown Posse and Twiztid), had some smart side to them that they didn't reveal to everyone when they talked about serial killing and sex and pot. But then…then there was that occasional serious song. Nothing's Left. How Many Times. Rendition of Reality. I'm Alright. Those few random songs that were so powerful…after I heard I'm Alright I changed the CD, not wanting to hear it anymore. I searched around in the bag to see what other CDs I'd taken, ones that I hadn't seen on the plane. Third Eye Blind. VNV Nation. Nine Inch Nails. The Aquabats. Amber was so strange, in such a pretty way. It made me smile. I chose to listen to Bella Morte. 

 Random selection chose for me the song Away. The beginning sounded so hollow, so mechanical, then just blended into something sad. Regretful. Grieving. "_I remember your smile still though you're far away. I remember the tears on your face though the reasons fade…_" the background vocals reminded me of Amber. On the highway I stared at all the signs, anticipating our arrival at the house. 

The piano line in the song was so simple and so melancholy. It made a lump form in my throat, reminding me that it was highly possible that my marriage was over. I loved Amber. I didn't want to lose her. I wanted the driver to go faster so that I would be there in that less time, maybe the quicker I got there the less angry she would be? I didn't know. I didn't know and that scared me, and so I turned the volume higher on the headphones and pushed the repeat button, trying to calm myself down. 

I handed the driver one of my credit cards once he'd pulled into our driveway. I didn't look to see how much the fare was, it made me squeamish just thinking about how much money I'd just spent. He handed it back to me and looked at me quizzically as I stepped out of the car, and I glared at him, slamming the door shut and reaching into my pocket to turn the music off.

"_And at night our stars burn as long as before_," the song sang at me as I turned it off. The cab sped off once I had stepped out of the driveway and onto the walkway that curled up over the lawn. The grass was overgrown, neglected. I figured tomorrow I would mow it for Amber, make the house look nice. We hadn't been there in a long time, after all. 

I took the Discman out of my pocket and stuffed it in the backpack, only then looking up to see the police tape that was slung around the porch rail. I turned frantically around to look for the taxi, wanting to get back in and go back to the airport, or anywhere away from the house, to find Mark. Mark. I wanted Mark. For some reason he was the only person I could think of just then, and wanted him to protect me. Sometimes it felt like we were kids again, when I was always hiding behind him. Always making him defend me. 

My stomach fell. I just stood there, staring up at the house. It was fully dark now, I saw everything in a kind of dark blue light. I heard music in my head, Breña, so strongly that I thought it was actually playing. But when I shook my head furiously to myself it all stopped. 

Now I had to relive this all again. My eyes sprung tears as I realized that all day I'd been hallucinating, as I began to slowly walk up the steps onto the porch.

I saw my reflection in the pane of glass on the door. My hair was a mess, greasepaint lessened to the point where it just looked like smeary eye shadow. No wonder the driver looked at me funny. My hands were shaking as I reached into my pocket for keys, finding the single one on the ring that hadn't been touched in months, that I'd always pretended hadn't been there when I looked. I stuck it in the keyhole, unknowing of how many times police had been in and out of there, but the door was still locked. I was grateful for that much. My hands barely functioned as I unlocked the door, opening it slowly and stepping inside, hesitant to close the door behind me.

Everything was dark for a moment. I liked it that way. I didn't want to see…because I remembered then that I had never gotten around to hiring people to clean the place up. I'd gotten a couple numbers from James once on the phone to tell me to call to get everything cleaned up, but I was so upset that I never wanted to deal with that responsibility, so never had anything even touched. The only people that had been there since what happened, were Mark to get my clothes that one night, and police. 

I really didn't want to, or need to, see what was left there. But I felt so scared. I didn't know what I was scared of really, but I just felt it tickling in my spine and in my limbs, like something was there. And it was, I just couldn't see it. If it had been any night of my Perfect Time it wouldn't mean a fucking thing, but now…now wasn't like all the times we'd gotten home in the middle of the night to have the house pitch black. But now…I felt it eating in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut as I reached over to flip the light switch.

Everything was still and black still. The muscles in my face hurt from tensing it so much. Slowly I opened them, the tears falling as I did so.

I saw blood.

Brown, old stains on the once white carpet. My heart caught in my throat and I looked up. Not all the knocked over furniture had been picked up, though some of it moved. One of the end tables still lay on the floor, glass of a vase scattered around it, mingling with dead flowers. A lamp laid on it's side, dust and cobwebs collecting in the shade. I felt my knees going weak and began to shake violently as I saw all the dried, brown stains that covered the floor. Even the handprint on the wall was still there, and the stain from when I'd vomited, as I felt I would do again.

This time I was able to run outside. 

The meticulous drizzle that had been falling all day there had turned into something harder, and didn't quite pour but rained more steadily as I fell down the front steps onto my knees, holding my stomach with one hand and the hair out of my face with the other. When it was all over with I slowly turned back, staring up as the house loomed over me, the light pouring through the open front door. I just stared at the stains on the wall.

_My reflection wraps and pulls me under. Healing waters to be bathed in Breña. Guides me safely in worlds I've never been to. Heal me, heal me, my dear Breña. _

I heard it in my head and started to crying, biting down on my lip and wobbling up to my feet. The rain and the tears both mixed on my face as I made my way back up into the house, not wanting to see it again but unable to keep myself from it. I couldn't tell if it was bravery or masochism. The sound of rain was all that I was really hearing, but I swore the song was playing. It was laced into my brain. 

From standing there so long I was drenched, and starting to shiver. I wanted to be somewhere else. I wanted to be in that goddamned apartment, just not there. Not THERE. Of all fucking places. I tugged at my hair.

"What the fuck were you THINKING, Kane??" I screamed at myself. And no one answered. It was so quiet and alone, and I was so shaken into the brutal truth that I couldn't even imagine that Amber was inside. 

_So vulnerable but it's all right. Heal me, heal me, my dear Breña._

The doorway was laughing at me. Amber was laughing at me. Claudette. Armand. Paul. My parents. 

It was everything in my life that I'd failed to stick up for myself against. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I wasn't going to let it get to me.

My stomach was churning but I willed myself not to be sick again as I took the steps, walking slowly, eyes locked on the faded stains. I wanted Mark to be there with me again, but brushed it off. I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to do this on my own.

I had to keep my mouth clenched shut tightly and kept biting my lip to keep from vomiting. There wasn't even anything left in my system, but the movements were all there. The gagging and whatnot. But I knew what I needed to do as, for the second time, I stepped into the house, and now closed the door behind me. I felt locked in and stifled, going over the motions as I'd gone through them that night. 

The living room was mostly untouched from that night. A patch of carpet was missing from between a large smear of blood. I breathed deeply as I stared at it, and the wooden floor beneath which seemed damaged, as the blood had seeped through and messed it up. It took all my will to walk into the dining room.

_Flaming June_ was there, calming, so sleepy looking and peaceful, yet with the jagged holes of the arrows right beside it. The arrows were gone though, as was the bowgun from the floor. The chairs that had been knocked over were now in place, and the lace tablecloth was rumbled and dirty. I knew that the people who'd been in my house must've used it somehow. Part of it was even ripped, with a small dent in the polished surface beneath it, which I touched lightly. It made me a little mad for some reason, until I realized that a dent in the table, of all the mess in the house, was the _least_ of my problems. I turned to walk into the kitchen and saw the series of handprints on the wall. 

Masochism. Bravery. Curiosity. What's the difference?

I reached up slowly and placed my hand over the one that was morbidly painted on the wall. My own hand was so much bigger. 

And this, I realized, was how I was going to remember her. This, by this stupid little torturous handprint I was going to remember how small she was, how pretty. She wasn't really that small. I just remembered her that way. Everyone was small to me, though, right?

With Amber that was special. Everyone was small in an indifferent kind of way. Amber's size was pretty. Small, not like the average person, small like Tinkerbell. Small and pretty like Tinkerbell, who was beautiful and cute and everyone loved. Who _I_ loved.__

My hand curled into a fist and drew back, punching the wall right next to the print so that the drywall crumbled in, as did part of the fingers. The chalky powder stayed on my knuckles, which were already wounded from destroying the mirror in the apartment. I cringed as I looked down at it, the small cuts reopening. I was suddenly angry at her. 

"Fuck you," I whispered, smearing my own blood over hers. "Fuck you for leaving me, Amber."

I let out a sigh, holding the sides of my head, trying to place the blame on the prick who'd done this to her and not so much Amber herself. I couldn't focus it, though. All I could think about was a body, and how it worked, how she'd managed to dial 911 right before she died and let them trace the call to her house. Why couldn't she have said a name? Grabbed a weapon? Gotten up? 

Her size, her weakness, made me angry with her.  And angry at myself. The hatred for her dissolved when I remembered that it was my fault, too. If I'd only been home…

So it was my fault as much as hers, as much as the fucker who'd done this. It was all equal. It was my bloody handprint on the wall, my huge disgusting smeared stain on the kitchen floor where she'd died, not just hers. As soon as I reached into the doorway and turned the light on I saw the kitchen floor and stared at it for a moment before I actually went into the room, scared as hell to go in there, not knowing what my reaction would be. 

My footsteps were slow as I entered, slowly lifting my legs, slowly breathing, slowly turning to pass around the island of counters. The stain on the floor was huge, what had been a pool of her blood, not to mention the other fluids that her body had discarded once she'd died. Some of it was a light pink color, very light. Most of it was brown. Parts were almost black. I remembered the night I'd found her like that, only three months earlier. It seemed like it had been years. 

I relived it.

Again I dropped to my knees, my fingertips tracing the edges of the blood, long gone, just a shadow of what it had been. I closed my eyes, seeing it again, out of body. Falling to my knees right in the blood, grabbing onto her, calling out her name as I sobbed, holding her body against mine. Breña playing the background, from the car that had been parked on the lawn. 

_Show me lonely and show me openings to lead me closer to you, my dear Breña. _

In my life I don't think I'd ever cried so much, falling back against the counters, sobbing, absolutely wailing, my voice coming out in strangled barks. The only times I could think of crying that hard were the fits I'd had in the nights following what had happened. Even in the bouts of depression that I'd gotten since then, I never truly cried. I was too dead to cry that much. 

"So vulnerable," I mumbled to myself, screaming and crying, not even like a child but like something more, all the desperation and misery in the world that could be grasped. And it wasn't just Amber and my children that I was crying over, it was _everything_. Every single fucking stupid thing that I'd gone through since the moment I'd been conceived. The fire, my face, my mom dying, Paul abusing me, Mark abusing me, everyone abusing me…

It really wasn't any fair. Everything that I ever loved, ever cared for the slightest bit, was taken the hell away from me. "But it's all right," I said, choking. "Opening to heal…opening to heal…my dear Breña…"

I couldn't fucking take it anymore. I hated goddamn life, hated that God or whatever was controlling it had such a fucked up sense of humor, hated that I wasn't strong enough to deal with it, hated that everything I gave a shit about had to be ruined. Destroyed. I hated it more than anyone will ever know.

My original plan while I'd been outside vomiting was that I was just quickly going to go into the house and grab the phone and call Mark, because I knew he'd come to my rescue. But now I just sat there, sobbing, not wanting to talk to him because I remembered all the things we'd done to each other. I just wanted to be alone, wanted to be with what I had left of Amber- a fucking blood stain.

After a couple of hours, when the rain had turned to pouring and it had also started thundering, I calmed down, and sat there in a daze for another period of time. I had to slowly come down from the sobbing, letting my breathing come back to normal, every now and then crying a little bit, only not as hard. It's a process, to come down from that. Because I would calm down a little and then think of how often we'd have breakfast in the kitchen and cry a lot. Then I would calm down and the way my body was trying to slow down reminded me of coming down from an orgasm, which made me cry, but not as much. Then I would calm down and think of Armand and cry a little bit…it was a cycle that took me a few hours to completely go through.

By the time I was finished with all of that it was around two-thirty in the morning. I was exhausted, but knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep. I decided I'd stick around until maybe noon and call Mark then, and ask him to come get me. 

There was no food in the house, really. Some non-perishable canned soup and stuff, other than that, not much. A bottle of spoiled milk was in the refrigerator, which was bothering no one at the moment cause it was sealed and I didn't dare touch it. There was always water, though. So I drank that, trying to get back into my system all the tears that I'd lost. I felt dehydrated.

It really got to me that the dishes weren't done. All the people that had been in the house had thrown out the food that Amber had been cooking, probably because it was rotting, but had never bother doing the dishes. I don't see why they would, but still. It bothered me. Little things like that bothered me. The dishes not being done, and Amber's shoes being kicked off in the living room, which I'd seen on the way in. Just kicked off as if she was going to slip them back on and leave. 

And she'd kicked off her shoes that day and never knew that she'd never use them again.

I let out a sigh, my head swelling, feeling like I was going to black out for a moment. I let out all the energy and tried not to cry, told myself not to because I was exhausted and wasn't going to get anywhere. I just tipped back the glass of water and felt it just come right back up into my eyes. They felt so wet to me, and everything was blurry. I hated feeling so miserable.

So maybe it _wasn't_ masochism, because I didn't want to be miserable. I wanted to just be calm. For that reason I walked through the house, closing Claudette's door so that I wouldn't have to look in and remember what I'd found there. I went into a den in the house, a room with a fireplace that we'd set up as another living room, because I didn't want to be among all the blood, or with our things in the bedroom.

There was an unused pile of Duraflame logs piled up next to the hearth. I decided to light a fire, figuring that it might calm me down, and because I was bored, and because there was nothing else to do. As I lit it I imagined Mark, lighting the house on fire. I tried to imagine what was going through his head as he did it. I couldn't.

Once it was going I sat back and grabbed my backpack, taking the Discman back on and just listening to the Bella Morte CD, Where Shadows Lie. I sat back against the wall, the fireplace to my left, only a few feet away from me so that I strongly felt the heat. It soothed my body, actually. And the music filled me. Something about it made me feel much calmer.

For the better part of an hour the CD was playing. I got to the second to last track and remembered what was going on, the rest of the time able to just zone out. The song Winter was playing, so slow, so cold, so sad. I closed my eyes, refusing to cry.

_"Her chamber waits through timeless days for her lost warmth and her voice. And the haunting way she moves against the wind in such silence. Set blue skies aflame, for in the dark I hear her name. Forget the steel of fragile hope. Let the tapers burn throughout this night."_

I thought of that night…that night with Amber when I confessed my fire theory. That perhaps it could give my face back, my mother back, my happiness back. I thought that maybe it would bring her back, too.

I crawled over so that I was sitting in front of the fire, facing it. "_As so the blue dawn sets, strewn with white clouds in the sky, and our eyes meet through the haze, of distant years and fallow dreams. When you hear the ghostly winds calling soft just close your eyes. When you hear the thunder roll through the past just hold me near…_"

My memory was so vivid of the fire. In the pause in the song I thought of it, like a movie, when you see it once and then go for months with hearing nothing of it. It eats away at you, you yearn to see it again. I was so sick and tired. All I wanted to do was feel again. All I wanted. I wanted Mark, I wanted Amber, I wanted our children. I wanted to feel. Because that feeling, that strong pain and burning and heat…it just wasn't clear enough in my head.

The end segment of the song truly haunted me. Eerie, sad, loud music boxes who's notes banged in my ears, pierced them. A moment of truth came over me. I knew what I needed to do. I remembered Saphrin, and how she'd been so sad for me, and how I'd listened to that CD of hers.

I ripped the headphones from my ears and stomped back into the kitchen, grabbing out a marker and a notepad from one of the drawers. Also a knife. I started writing as I was walking back to the den, my handwriting wobbling from it, then stopped and stood there leaning against the refrigerator to finish it because I go so obsessed with the idea.

I thought of that song I'd heard on the plane and in the cab. By Twiztid. I'm Alright. I knew that Saphrin would understand as I scribbled out what I remembered from the lyrics.

"If you're reading this, then I finally did it. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye- there was no time. Understand, I was stressed. Living day to day was hard, and I gave it my best. But there was nothing left for me in this world to convince me to stay now I'm long gone away. Don't you do that, don't you start with tears just remember all the time we spent over the years. Never cry, never think bad of me. What's done is done and that's the way it had to be. I need you to be strong for me. Say a prayer every day in my memory. I'm sure it's helping me to earn my feathers to get some wings and a halo and a harp and angelic things. And even though I'm gone, and out of sight, don't you worry about me. I'm alright."

I knew she would understand. And for some reason I felt it was important for her to hear that, to know that I cared about her. When I passed my bedroom in the hallway I saw my suitcase on the corner, the one I used when I was wrestling.

Amber had loved my wrestling costume. I remembered our kiss. I remembered the time Mark had set me on fire in an inferno match. On impulse I stepped into the room and dropped what I was carrying onto our unmade bed, making a straight line for the bag and tearing it open. My eyes were assaulted with bright red that I hadn't worn in so long. My costume, and an extra mask, and the glove and gauntlet. And my boots were there too, in the bottom, with my knee pads. I didn't think twice as I stripped down my clothes and redressed in the wrestling gear, pulling on the mask as a finishing touch before I grabbed the knife and my note and went back into the den.

When I think about it now, I really don't know what the fuck I was doing. 

At the time I knew, and had a perfect grasp. I knew perfectly well that I was tired of all the bullshit in my life and I was going to put an end to that, and make everyone stop taking everything away from me. I was sick and goddamn tired of it and I didn't see why I needed to put up with that. It was MY life, MINE that was getting all stamped on and I didn't see why I needed to be alive. It was fucking sadistic for Mark or Raven or Saphrin to want me to stay with them. So I wasn't.

With the knife I cut my left arm, the one that didn't have the sleeve. Deep, serious wounds. I wasn't playing anymore. I wasn't cutting myself to vent. All those people who call suicide a cry for help could've gone and fucked themselves. I was goddamn serious this time.

When the pain became too much for me I dropped the knife, and fell down, my blood all over my stomach. I stared at it, satisfied with what I'd done. Then I looked to the flames. 

Staring hard enough made my eyes hurt. The brightness, the heat, the memories. I saw my mother, saw my bouncy, playful little daughter and my beautiful wife. And I saw myself. I saw myself as a child, playing, being happy. _Happy_. And then having it all stolen. 

I was tired of all that shit.

I wanted to _feel_. To feel something other than misery. I needed to know that I wasn't just a wreck of a man, that there was actually a soul inside me. I wanted Amber back. I thought the fire could give it back to me when I reached in and tried to grab her hand.

The pain didn't register at all as the glove caught fire. It burned away at the leather, and at my skin, and I didn't even care. When I realized that I was on fire I slowly pulled my hand out, just staring at it, feeling nothing as the flames climbed up my arm. It didn't hurt, it didn't burn. It just made me sleepy. 

All that blood, and the flames. The smoke. I felt light headed.

This time, the song in my head wasn't Breña. It was The Background.

"Everything is quiet since you're not around. And I live in numbness now in the background…"

As I passed out I could've sworn that it was Mark who was singing it. 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Sorry for not updating for months..if I got more reviews it would be quicker. Hint hint. :P :P :P 

And for anyone I confused- TRUST ME- when this story is over, you'll fucking KNOW! :P 


	57. Orestes

**Chapter 57**

I woke up feeling really peaceful, perhaps even happy, maybe perfect if it weren't for the headache that I had. And I didn't know where I was right away. It was dark. I was in a room and it was dark. And I was in a bed. 

I sat up and rubbed my head, then remembered the fire. My heart started pounding and I reached over to see if there was a table, maybe a lamp. I felt a hard wood side table, and slid my hand over it, finding luck. I ran my hand up the lamp, found the switch, and clicked it on.

What met my eyes was Mark's house. One of the guestrooms. I'd been there a bunch of times, not recently. Amber and I stayed here sometimes rather than a hotel when we were in the area. After the confusion of why I was there passed I remembered my initial concern and looked at my arm. 

Unscathed.

I frowned, confused, and rubbed it, seeing that the scars on the back of my right hand were gone, ones that had been there the whole time. My heart pounded and I pushed myself out of bed, wondering how I'd gotten there and where I'd gotten the clothes. I was fully clothed, in red and black clothes, but more elegant than anything I would wear on my own. I don't know. It was strange.

The smell of cigarettes filled the room, which also confused me. I frowned and touched my forehead in stress, hating that I didn't know what was going on. But under my fingers I just felt smooth skin, unmarred. 

"What the fuck?" I asked out loud. Both hands reached up to touch my face, and it was something I've never felt in my adult life. Smooth, regular, untouched. If I hadn't been so confused I would've been smiling as I ran out of the room and down the hall, knowing my way around even though the lights were off as I ran into the bathroom. I smashed the light switch on the wall and leaned down against the counter, staring in shock at my reflection in the mirror. It was almost horrific to me, such shock. I thought maybe that I was dead, in heaven or something.

My face was perfect.

So often in my life, even since I was still a kid, I'd wondered what I would've looked like if the fire had never happened. And right then I knew. And I was very pleased. Even if I had been ugly to everyone else, it didn't matter just then. I had a face. It was so…gratifying. 

For the first time I saw the resemblance between me and Claudette, equally my resemblance to my mother. All the ways that I thought they'd looked alike, it had been through me. My fingers ran down over my cheekbone, down to my jaw. I was smiling.

"Daddy?" I heard a voice and turned, brought out of the trance. A girl was standing in the doorway, maybe nine or ten years old, a younger boy standing behind her. The boy was kind of hiding in the shadows of the hallway so I couldn't see what he looked like. But I could see the girl. I smiled and knelt down in front of her. She was so small…just about as tall as me when I was on one knee. Dark hair, green eyes. She looked like me, like my mother. Like Amber. Tears rushed to my eyes and I couldn't keep the smile off my face. 

"What is it, baby?" I asked her. 

"I couldn't sleep," she looked like she was going to cry. I reached over and rubbed her shoulder. My hand was huge next to her. And not scarred. I was really happy for that time. And I was talking to my daughter. And she was talking back. Again I wondered if I was dead, if this was some strange Heaven…in Mark's house. The latter part of the idea made me doubt it.

"Aww, what's wrong?" I felt really bad for her. She was so delicate, so helpless. 

"It's your fault," she said, and started to cry. My stomach turned and I pulled my hand away from her, afraid that I was all-too-familiar with what was going on. 

I didn't know what to do. "Claudie, don't cry," I said, desperately, and looked up to see where Armand was. He was backing away from me, to the other side of the hall, bumping into the wall to make him stop. I reached out for Claudette and she jumped back, into the darkness. "No, Claudette, wait," I said, and stood up, I could barely see out in the hallway, where she'd joined her brother, and stepped out of the bathroom to find them. All I could hear was her crying, and then footsteps. Small, child footsteps, the two sets, running away from me. And I ran after. 

"Claudie? Armand? Wait!" I called out to them desperately. From the glow of the bathroom light I could just barely make out their shapes, Armand having reddish kind of hair, the vague traces of Claudette's white nightgown. And they ran so damn fast…I really had to make an obvious effort to keep up with them. The smell of cigarettes grew stronger as I ran down the hall after them, down the stretch of the hall. It seemed much longer than it actually was, and I noticed that the further we went, the more the ground beneath my feet changed. From wood into a thick carpet. It felt eerily familiar to me as we reached the end, a door. They'd already passed through. A crack of light came from the bottom. 

The fear was eating a hole in my stomach. I pushed the door open after I'd caught my breath, finding myself in Claudette's nursery in our house in Vermont. I saw the door that led into the hall, and turned to see where I'd come in from.

All that I could see was the plain wall, light blue wallpaper, spilled over with pictures of teddy bears and rocking horses. I touched it, ran my hand over it to see that there was nothing there. I frowned and turned back around.

Claudette and Armand were standing shoulder-to-shoulder right in front of me. The whole room was covered in splotches of vibrant red blood.

"It's your fault," Claudette said again. Dark circles began to appear around her eyes, brown, then purple, her eyes themselves becoming a misty kind of light blue. Armand just stared me, not saying a word, and started to bleed from his mouth. I started to shake, and took a step back, hitting the wall. "This is all your fault, Daddy."

She backed away from me, over to the crib that she'd slept in as a baby. I watched her in rapt fascination, not knowing what she was going to do. The white rail of it was red, the top smeared as if someone had been grabbing onto it with blood on their hands, individual droplets rolling down the bars like candle wax. Or tears. She walked crookedly, wobbling a little as she lifted one of her small arms, tilting her head and without looking pointing up at the ceiling. She had one of those music things that babies have, that hang over the cribs. That you tug on to make play. I didn't know what they were called. Amber loved them. She thought they were cute. The one Claudette had was fuzzy and had little stars and clouds and moons hanging from it. Those too, were red, and not smiling anymore, but making horrid faces, like they were in incredible pain. 

"I can't sleep. Make music," she said. 

I looked down at Armand, feeling kind of threatened as he just stared at me. He was so small, and looked kind of like Mark. Kind of like our father, kind of like Amber. I didn't see myself in his hollow, vacant eyes as he stared up, blood dripping from his lips. He didn't move at all, didn't even breathe. Cautiously I passed him, my eyes not leaving as I approached Claudette, her arm still up, finger pointed and fixed on the hanging music box. Slowly she put it back at her side as I reached up and pulled down on the cord.

She smiled as the music started, something very peaceful and subdued and childish. I choked back a sob and she began to laugh at me. I glared at her with hatred.

"_Metaphor for a missing moment. Pull me into your perfect circle. One womb, one shape, one resolve. Liberate this will to release us all,_" it sang. She just laughed at me. Armand joined her again and did the same, spitting blood all over me as he did it. 

"What?" I demanded of them. Claudette pointed her finger again, at me. Armand's blood was getting on her nightgown. 

She sang along with the song, high-pitched and creepy. "Gotta cut away, snip away, slip away and sever this…"

Hatred ran through me as I mumbled down at them, saying what they wanted me to, completing the chorus. "Umbilical residue that's keeping me from killing you…"

"_And from pulling you down with me in here. I can almost hear you scream_."

They turned and ran away again, and I was about to not even follow when I looked at my surroundings. 

Pink carpet. Ruined.

A white rocking horse, splotched in red. 

Various teddy bears, soaked in crimson.

A stack of building blocks that was dripping and disgusting.

I couldn't stand to be there so I chased them out of the room. I hated the mind tricks they were playing on me, or that I was playing on myself. I couldn't tell, but I hated that I found myself standing at the top of the stairs of Paul's basement. And there were standing at the bottom, still laughing at me. 

"Give me one more medicated peaceful moment," I thought, along with the song. 

The little fucking brats, trying to lure me down there. I wanted to go down and kill both of them.

But I knew I couldn't. I couldn't. They were my children. 

"_Umbilical residue that's keeping me from killing you…"_

"Fuck you," I called down at them, and followed, giving in. 

I wanted to vomit as I did so, the keen memories that I felt. The way the temperature changed as you went further down, how it got colder, how the steps creaked and felt like they'd break. And as I had trouble handling that enough, it was my own fucking children who were luring me down, laughing at me, making fun of me…my own fucking children. I wanted to kill them. 

Claudette's laughter was so loud, so piercing as I stepped down onto the floor. I didn't even see her, she wasn't around anymore. But I could smell smoke. Not just cigarette smoke, real smoke. I held my stomach, remembering the night of the fire.

I had been sleeping when I woke up, because I was choking. I pushed out of bed and walked out into the hall, the door directly across from me open and revealing that my brother wasn't around. His bed was empty. He was gone. I could hear the fire, crackling, eating away at the house. 

Everything felt really hot. I was choking and couldn't see very much as I ran down the hall to our parents room, throwing the door open to see that the fire had already touched that part. My father was in there, I could see him, and he was screaming, flailing against the flames. He didn't even see me, and between us lay a massive wall of heat. I watched him fall down, clawing at his arms, his clothes on fire, his _skin_ on fire, his hair. He never knew that I was watching him as he fell silent, as I sobbed for him, standing in the doorway and too scared to move. 

That was when I heard my mother calling me. She'd gone outside, come back in for me. "Kane? Kane where are you?" she was screaming. From the bottom of her lungs she screamed so that her voice was rough and cracking. I couldn't stop crying as I turned away from the flames eating what was left of my father's body and ran back down the hall, the smoke everywhere, blinding. It stung my eyes, made me cry even more. 

"KANE!!!" she was really screaming. She didn't hear me. I called for her, too, and couldn't see anything as I reached out for her, just knew he was near because she started to answer me, because her voice got closer. 

"Oh god, Kane," she said, and held me. She was crying, too, and pulled me down onto the floor, under the smoke, telling me to try to breathe. I had inhaled smoke, I was coughing and couldn't concentrate, felt disoriented. When I caught my breath I looked up and saw that a wall of the flames had blocked off the other end of the hallway and trapped up there. I started screaming in fear, and she was crying silently. I didn't understand then, I know now the kind of pain she was in. She was crying softly, bitterly, because she knew she wasn't going to make it out of there. She was a woman who wasn't going to see the light of another day and so she just grabbed onto her son and held him and didn't say a word. 

I kept asking her what was happening, asking her why we were just sitting there. She just shushed me and told me how much she loved me, how beautiful I was. She didn't seem afraid, that whole time, until the ceiling started to cave. It was cracking above, and chunks of wood and drywall were falling down from it. Finally one huge plank cracked down, landing right next to us, broke the floor boards beneath us. That was when she screamed, and clung to me as I had being clinging to her. Screams purely of fear, of horror and helplessness as we fell. I don't know what happened, I know that we fell. I know that I hit my head. I felt dizzy, couldn't see straight. Everything was flashing in front of me. A large board had landed on top of her, and her leg was broken. Compound fracture, blood everywhere. But she was still conscious, and crying, sobbing, and telling me to run away, telling me that she loved me and that she loved Mark and to tell him that. Her hair was splayed out all around her, curls shining, beautiful. She laid there helpless, telling me to run, cursing at me, telling me to get our of there, asking me why I wasn't leaving. I couldn't bring myself to. I saw her leg, bleeding. Saw the blood coming from her nose and from her lips. She'd broken teeth in the fall. And the board holding her down was splintered, dug into her so that blood pooled all around her. I was crying from fear and misery and physical pain as I watched her. I didn't even noticed that I was bleeding, too, didn't realize that there was blood pouring down over the side of my face. 

What it took for me to really listen to her was when her hair caught fire. I saw the edges of it just kind of curl in quickly, like burning plastic, and get thin, turn brown and start sizzling and turn black. She was screaming and crying as the flames got closer to her scalp, then just took over her head. Her eyebrows burned, her eyelashes singed and seemed to just disappear. That was when I finally ran away, screaming. 

I managed to get through the wrecked hallway without burning, images of both parents burning in my head, not knowing what to do, wishing that Mark would help me. He was my savior, always was. Even then he was, especially then, maybe. Because he was my big brother. He had that title, he had that thing about him that big brothers have, immortality. He was so untouchable. I remember that I screamed out his name as I neared the stairs.

That was when I tripped.

If it hadn't been for that I don't know what would've happened. I tripped on a piece of wood that had fallen down from the ceiling, fell down and hit my chin really hard on the floor. It cut open and I began to bleed all over the front of my shirt. That was when I realized that my head was bleeding, too. I touched my face and pulled my hands away completely red. The sight of my own blood frightened me to the extreme, and has ever since, especially when I've been wrestling. I was shaking so hard that I couldn't get back on my feet right away, just sat there screaming and freaking out and hysterical. The fire was all around me, the walls crumpling. A flaming board fell from the ceiling and landed on my right hand. 

That's how I got that scar.

My hand was trapped beneath it, burning. I screamed more than I had before, if it was possible. My voice started to go. 

It's a horrible feeling, to be burned. So few people really know it. It stings, and it hurts, and all you can see is red. And it never gets any better. It's like…when something stings, it'll sting for a few seconds and then stop. The burning never gets any better, it just get worse, it makes you feel that there's nothing there to burn anymore, that you're getting smaller and small just because the pain is so great. It just expands all over your body and _hurts. _

The board was too heavy for me to get off until it had burned down a little. By then I think I was in shock, and it didn't hurt so much, and I managed to kick the thing off of me.

My hand was disgusting. 

The skin was hanging off it, nothing but red and gore, all surrounded by burned skin. There were pieces of the wood stuck all over, and ash. I screamed in horror at seeing it, though everything was starting to get numb. I'd lost so much blood and been so traumatized and hit my head so hard that things were starting not to hurt. I scrambled up to my feet and kept running, almost to the stairs when another board fell, swung down and hit me in the face. I fell down with it. It wasn't on fire but covered in orange embers.

Part of it went directly into my right eye. I tried to push it off of me but it was too heavy, resting right on my face, my head. There was nothing left of the wood to burn but it kindled my hair, and from there assaulted my face. I couldn't see anything. I couldn't cry anymore. I couldn't even feel it, just screamed and screamed and screamed. Everything hurt. Everything felt sweltering and hot. 

At the time it didn't even occur to me that it would shape the rest of my life. I wasn't even thinking of it, wasn't thinking of anything. For some reason, though, I knew I wasn't going to die. I knew that I was going to get the thing off me when the time was right and get out of there. And after a few minutes, when the burning stopped a little, I was able to shove it away and get up and keep running. 

I fell down the stairs, couldn't balance, and saw through the open front doors that fire trucks had just arrived. I watched them pull up the road, saw Mark crying and vomiting and freaking out on the far side of the front lawn. I reached out to call to him but I couldn't anymore. The board that had landed on me had burned my throat, I couldn't talk.

I couldn't even move, I was too paralyzed by the pain. I just stopped moving, tried for just a moment to let the pain calm. I saw through the eye that hadn't been burned, saw Mark, saw him freaking out and pointing towards the house and screaming at the firefighters. I reached out, my hand bigger than he was from my perspective. Over and over I mouthed his name, not sure if it was even coming out. 

Finally the firefighters burst into the house. I remember that one of them took one look at me and said "Holy shit," before running over and scooping me up in his arms. He ran outside and I saw Mark rushing over. His face was red, puffy, wet. He was reaching out for me and people were holding him back as they put me in an ambulance.

It's funny how clearly I remember all of it. I don't know why I remember so much. I wish I didn't.

The memory has me sobbing, screaming, sitting down on the steps to Paul's basement, holding my head, my hair. I hate Mark for doing it, for setting that fucking fire. I hate Paul for torturing me, waiting till I was able to leave the hospital. The parts of my hair that had been burned and healed, as did the exterior of my neck, though I had problems speaking for years. I could've had speech therapy, fuck, I could've had _psychological therapy if it hadn't been for Paul. _

Then I wouldn't have been so upset all my life. I wouldn't have been so miserable.

But then again I also wouldn't have ever met Amber. So I can't know what to want. All I could do was remember. 

The smell of the smoke thickened. I looked up and saw fire. I still heard Claudette laughing at me. My face started to itch and felt kind of tight, my hand felt the same way, and I looked down to see a series of wrinkles appear, slowly deepening to reform the scars. I couldn't do anything but sob, couldn't even bring myself to be angry at the little bitch that my daughter had become. 

The flames surrounded me in a semi-circle, so that the only place I had to go was up the stairs. I was bitter towards how familiar it seemed as I stood and darted up the stairs, banging on the door and screaming for Mark.

"Mark!!" I screamed. "Mark, help me! Please, Mark, don't leave me here like this! MARK!!!" 

It had happened several times, just like that, in the past. The first time Paul had locked me down there…minus the screaming, because my voice wasn't working yet. It had happened the first time I'd seen rats in the basement, when I was horrified and started to cry, though I learned to get used to them. The first few times I had nightmares, the first time it rained and the basement got flooded up to my knees.

I kept screaming for him, wondering where he was, hearing the fire and feeling it coming up behind me, the heat intensifying. "MARK _PLEASE!!!" I was begging. That happened too. Because the first few times I cried for him he'd help me, then Paul would hurt him. Eventually he learned to ignore me, to turn his back. But sometimes…every once in a while if I was pained enough and loud enough he'd answer. _

"WHERE ARE YOU??" I called. I pressed my ear up against the door to try to hear anything. I didn't hear him out in the hallway. 

The flames were licking up at my heels. In desperation I began to throw my shoulder into the door, kicking at the fire and trying to keep moving so that it wouldn't burn me. After a few tries it cracked, and I was able to shove it open. When I stepped out into the hall all the fire stopped, and I was met again with the smell of cigarettes. It was so strong. I could even see the little thin trail of smoke that wound around. I followed it, thin white wispy fingers that curled around me, pulled me in. 

It lead me to Paul's office. Someone was sitting at the desk chair, and it was turned away. As I walked in it slowly turned around, creaking. My knees felt weak and I managed to get to one of the other chairs so that I wouldn't fall to the floor as I finally fell.

Amber.

"Oh god, where have you been?" I asked her. She shrugged, and took a drag off a cigarette, narrowing her eyes at me for a moment before flicking ash into an ashtray. She slowly exhaled, the smoke dancing over her lips. 

"Around."

"Since when have you smoked?" I asked her, confused. I really didn't care. Amber smoking a cigarette was better than no Amber at all.

"I've always smoked, silly. Where've _you been?"_

Again I felt overwhelmingly confused. "Amber?" I asked. 

"No."

I just stared as she crushed the cigarette out and stood up, walking around the desk and staring down at me. She smelled like lilacs. I stared up at her, wide-eyed. "What the fuck is going on?" I asked her. She was humming Orestes, by A Perfect Circle. She even sang a line or two, eyes locked on mine. Someone else in Amber's body, a different soul behind her eyes. 

"And I don't wanna feel this overwhelming hostility," she sang softly to me. 

"What's going on??" I asked again, tightening my grip on the chair. She smiled really softly, the way people smile when they're in on a joke that you know nothing about. My stomach was flipping. Sweat was breaking out on my forehead. 

She kissed her fore and middle fingers, the faintest smear of lipstick coming off, and kept on her smile as she pressed them up against my forehead, or third eye.

"It's not your time yet, Kane."

**

Hey sorry Krissi for not telling you about Lilac's pseudo-cameo :P :P :P I couldn't help it. Thank you, too. XD Because she belongs to you and all. XD Now review, fucker!! :P :P :P ::dances::

And haha I was thinking, to Susan and Lea- I bet Heaven _is_ Mark's house for you two… :P

And Happy Birthday to the Rusty-duck!! :) Oh yay. ::sings::


	58. Where Are You? : Part VII

**Chapter 58**

All around me I could hear crying and whispering, but it took a while for me to do anything about it. I could hear Mark's voice, and Raven's, some unrecognizable ones. I think the crying was Saphrin's. The last three people who cared about me all around me, teasing me almost. I felt weighed down and helpless as I listened to them for an eternity. 

I felt hands, felt people touching my left hand, holding it. Probably Saphrin, maybe Mark. And someone combing my hair. I was frustrated, felt helpless. I hated being stuck there, wondered if that was what it was like when you were dead, if this was what it was like for Amber. Hearing things, barely feeling them, not being able to move. It made me want to cry.

"I'm so sorry," I kept hearing. And "I love you, Kane," and "Everything is okay, you're safe."

And then I would hear Mark's voice. "Kane I know you can hear me, I sense it. I want you to know, Kane, that we all love you, that you're in good hands, you're safe. Don't be afraid, Kane, just calm down. Kane, this is Mark and I love you."

He kept saying my name over and over, saying everything in the simplest of terms to let me understand. I was coherent enough in my own mind to know that he could grasp what was going on. Without difficulty he'd probably be able to know what I was thinking. For that reason I tried to communicate with him.

_Mark, I'm scared_, I was thinking. _It's dark. Help me_.

I could feel him squeezing my hand. "I know, Kane. Just hang on, it'll be over soon, Kane."

_Where are you? I need you, Mark. Please don't leave me. _

"I won't, Kane. Calm down, Kane, you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you, Kane. I'm right here with you."

_I can't see you. I can't see anything. _

"I know you can't. It'll be okay, just give it some time. I'll be here with you, don't worry about it."

_Am I dying? Mark it hurts so much. Am I dead? Where am I?_

"Don't worry, Kane. You're okay. You're not dead, Kane."

Other voices were in the background, I didn't recognize them, asking Mark what he was doing. I heard Mark snap at them and curse and tell them to fuck off, not much else. Then my hand felt cold, he was gone. I felt an overwhelming despair, afraid, not knowing where he was or why he was leaving me. I wanted to reach out to him but couldn't move, didn't know what to do. I began to panic, heard monitors going off because I started freaking out, heard the doctors telling Mark to leave the room so that they could tend to me. I was frustrated, couldn't feel anything, didn't know what they were doing but could feel myself getting subdued, felt things slowly fade out. I was screaming on the inside.

_Mark please don't leave me! Come back! Mark where are you!? Please don't leave me here like this! I'm so scared, don't leave!_

No one answered me. And soon it was over. I couldn't even think straight to be scared, just let it pool, let it sit. I don't know what happened then, I don't really remember. I remember that Mark never came back, that I didn't feel any pain.

And then I saw light. Actually it was a little dark, but compared to everything else, it was color, it was light, it was _something rather than blackness. That was when the pain kicked in, when my whole right arm felt like it would start melting, when I could feel the soreness in my left arms from deep cuts. I could barely see that there were bandages and IV's, that my left are was heavily wrapped. The lights were off in the room but there was light coming in from the hallway, there was a nurse stationed at a little desk right outside the door. My vision was kind of blurry but I could also see Saphrin, sitting in a chair a few feet away. She didn't seem to notice that my eyes were open, just sat there crying. She was holding something. I tried to lift my arms, to reach for her, but I couldn't._

My voice sounded cracked and broken when I was finally able to speak.

"…Saphrin?" I couldn't believe how weak I sounded. It was barely a whisper, but she heard me. 

"Oh my god," she choked out, and started crying. She stood up and stepped over to me, touching my hand. I saw what it was that she was holding. A paper. There was blood on it. It was mine. I felt really exhausted, and scared, and the monitor started going off again. Saphrin closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Shh, Kane calm down," she was saying, and ran her hand through my hair. The nurse in the doorway came over and checked some things, Saphrin backing away, crying for a moment before turning and walking out of the room. The nurse didn't say anything to me, and I closed my eyes, not knowing what was happening. When I opened my eyes again she was gone, someone else was stationed at the door. 

She, like Saphrin, didn't see me right away. Until I tried to move, tried to sit up. She dropped what she was doing and looked up, looking kind of surprised and then stood up, walking over to me.

"Mr. Callaway?" she was asking me. I couldn't make my mouth move, couldn't concentrate. I think she understood and kept talking. "Mr. Callaway you're in a hospital, you're safe."

I started coughing. "Mark," I managed to say. "Mark. Where's Mark?"

She nodded her head. "Calm down, Mr. Callaway, he'll be sent for."

My body hurt. I took her word for it and stopped trying to talk, stopped trying to move, just tried to sit still and let the pain go away. She checked on a few things before walking back to her desk. I could hear her on the phone, saying "He's asking for you," and telling him my condition. My stomach felt like it would explode, anxiousness crawling. I was impatient and didn't want to wait for him. I closed my eyes, didn't go back to sleep, just closed them and rested, counting in my head, concentrating on my breathing, doing anything to not think of all the pain that I was in. 

When Mark arrived I almost cried tears of joy. 

He kind of just fell into the doorway, like he'd been running, and was out of breath. He was wearing black jeans and an long sleeved black t-shirt that was big on him. His hair had gotten longer since the last time I'd seen him, and it was tied back. There were tears in his eyes as he rushed over to me.

"Kane," he said. "Are you okay?"

"It hurts," I said to him softly. 

He lowered his head and sighed. I knew that he was crying. "I know it does, Kane. Just hang in, it'll be okay."

"Where's Saphrin? She was here?"

"That was this morning," he said to me. I had no concept of time, it surprised me that he said that. 

"What happened?" I asked him. All I could remember just then was blackness, and the dream. Nothing else. "Who was the woman?"

"What woman?" he asked, and looked back up. With the back of his hand he wiped away the tears that were falling, his eyes absolutely screaming lime green. 

I felt confused. "The…woman. That looked like Amber. With the cigarettes."

His face went blank and he just stared at me for a minute. "No one, Kane. You were imagining her, don't worry about it."

"You know who she is, don't you?"

"Kane she's not real."

"Tell me, Mark."

"Kane…" he said, almost scolding. Before I could say anything he spoke again. "Stop it, you're gonna get all worked up. Just calm down, we can talk about it when you're feeling better."

"But I wanna talk about it now," I insisted.

"No, Kane. Stop it."

"Mark!" I started whining. 

For a moment we were just staring at each other before Mark just started laughing, like he couldn't help it. It felt good to see him laugh, it had been so long. So long since _I_ had laughed, even, so it was good. I was able to smile. 

"It's good to see you awake," he said, and patted my bicep. I felt really tired, but happy that I'd seen him. I remembered Saphrin. The note. I remembered writing it, didn't remember much else from that night. Just bits and pieces. I remembered the note, remembered Amber's handprint, remembered vomiting outside. 

My arms hurt. "I'm really tired," I mumbled.

"So sleep," he said, faintly smiling. He put his hand on mine. 

"You don't mind?"

"No, go ahead."

I yawned. "Tell Saph I'm sorry," I said to him, and then fell back asleep.

The reason I remembered completely what had happened was because I had a dream about it. In my mind, I woke up on the plane again, and relived everything. When I woke up that time I was sweating and I couldn't calm myself down. The nurse came over and asked me what was wrong, and what I needed.

"Amber," I was crying. I wasn't asking for her, I knew she was gone, but I couldn't stop saying her name over and over. I don't think the nurse understood. She just told me to calm down.

"I'll get her, I'll get her, Mr. Callaway," she said to me, and told me to relax. 

"No you won't," I cried. My body hurt so much. I wanted to tear off my arms. 

She just looked at me for a moment and said nothing. I stopped crying and just glared at her, maybe it intimidated her or something because she left. I just sat there, didn't cry, didn't get upset, just tried to relax. I was so bored though, and so stiff and I wanted to move around but I couldn't because I was in so much pain. I had a headache, I hated feeling so pathetic and helpless. And when I couldn't stand just sitting around like that I urged myself to go to sleep. 

And every time I woke up it was someone else standing there.

Like I said, I felt no concept of time. Everything was the same to me, and there were no windows in the room so I couldn't tell if it was night or day. There was a clock on the other side of the room way up on the wall but it was too dark for me to see what it said. So I would wake up, look around, get a little confused, and then go back to sleep. Anything to keep me out of the pain I was in. 

But Saphrin came. I woke up at one point she was sitting in the chair, just staring at me. She didn't seem that upset, just very placid. When I opened my eyes and groaned a little she looked kind of relieved and came over to me.

"Saphrin," I said, looking up at her. 

She tilted her head to the side. "Hey, Kane," she whispered. "How are you doing?"

I managed to smile. "I'm in a lot of pain…" I said, ready to start crying. Tears filled her eyes but she forced a smile, anyway, not saying anything. "You found my note…" I said to her. Again she didn't say anything, and the tears just fell from her eyes. She covered her face with her hands and shook. I felt horrible. "I'm sorry…" I said to her, weakly attempting an apology.

"Why did you do it, Kane?" she asked me. I could only stare at her. She took her hands away from her face and looked at me, causing a sharp pain to stab at my chest. Her face was streaked with tears, red, kind of puffy. "Why did you do it?"

An answer for her wouldn't come. She pulled the note out of her pocket, looked down at it, then to me. It was creased and worn down. She'd read it a lot, I could tell. "I…I've never been good at wrapping gifts…" I mumbled. She started to sob. 

"I'm sorry," she said to me. I tried to reach up and touch her but I couldn't. Pain radiated from my forearm, right down the middle where I'd cut. I was kind of surprised that I hadn't succeeded, maybe it was some miracle, like Death was on my side and didn't want to take me.  All I could do was curl in my fingers around her hand. 

"Why?" 

"Because I haven't been here for you," she said, and grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the table beside my bed and wiped her eyes. "I feel like it's my fault…"

"What? No…" my head started to throb. "Saphrin it's not your fault, don't worry about it."

"_Don't worry about it?_" she looked incredulous. "You're crazy, Kane, you know that? Look at yourself! And you're telling me not to worry. I _care about you, Kane. I can't stand to see that you've done this to yourself. Is this because of me?"_

"You?" 

"The note, Kane. Who was gonna know what it meant except for me?" her eyes were so sad.

Tears started falling from my eyes. "I wrote it for you, yeah…I knew you would understand."

"But…but _why_?" she was so desperately miserable. I winced, couldn't bear to look at her and turned away.

I kind of blurted it out, didn't really mean to say it. But it was said. "Because I can't live without her, Saph, I can't…I don't know what to do. I miss her so much…"

She made this small gasp, not out of surprise though, just because she was crying too much. "I miss her too, Kane. She was my best friend, you know that. Don't be like this…I miss her as much as you do but you can't just…_give up, can you? If we help each other get through all this everything will be okay."_

"But Saphrin," I said to her, still unable to look. "You have so much! You're so pretty, and you have Rave and Evan, and your career and your clowns and all that…what do I have?"

"Oh god Kane…don't ask me that…" 

I wanted to wipe my eyes but it hurt too much. Instead I just closed them, trying to prevent the tears. "See? You can't even answer. I know why you haven't been talking to me, it's because you miss her as much as I do. You can't stand to talk to me because you don't want to be reminded. And neither do I…but she was all I _had_."

"Kane…"

"I knew you would understand," I told her again, and opened my eyes to look at her. "And I know that I'm probably making this harder on you and I'm really sorry, but…" I didn't even finish what I had to say. I couldn't. She had an iron grip on my hand as she held me. She cried for a while, I managed to hold myself together. After a while she calmed down, and pulled over the chair and sat down next to me, holding my hand in both of hers. I closed my eyes but didn't sleep, just rested. I think she thought I was sleeping. At one point she began to brush my hair. I smiled.

"So you're the one who's been doing that," I said. I must've startled her, like I said I don't think she knew I was awake, and then she just laughed. 

When I opened my eyes she looked much better, not so stressed. The smile really helped. "Yeah…you knew?"

"I could feel it."

"What, when you were out?" she kept brushing my hair, running her hands through it. 

"Yeah…"

She laughed a little again. "I didn't know you could feel it. That's cool…"

"I could. It made me feel better actually," I said to her.

"Oh, good," she stopped and looked down at me. "Do you feel okay now?"

"Except for the blinding pain in my arms, yeah, just duckie."

She winced. "Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Why don't you get some sleep? You seem tired."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?" I said again. Her mouth tugged into a frown. Tears rushed her eyes again.

"You know, Kane, I can barely start to keep up with you," she said, and stood up, putting the brush down and grabbing her bag and jacket.

"Saph, wait," I begged, flexing my fingers, trying to lift my arm.

"No, I have to go," she said, and stormed off. I was left dizzy, smelling her perfume. I watched the doorway for a long time, wishing that she would reappear but she never did. The nurse just sat there, writing away. I couldn't tell what she was doing, wasn't sure that I cared, even. The only reason I observed it was because I was so damn bored.

After some time a doctor came in and started writing down vital stats, some other people came in to change the bandages on my arms. I didn't look, just kept my mouth shut and didn't say anything to any of them. They didn't speak to me, either. And some time after that, a few other people came in to talk to me. Doctors. A man and two women. I just stared, I didn't know what they wanted. They all looked at me for a moment, too, then to each other, before one of the women started to speak.

They gave me all their bullshit, told me that my condition had greatly improved and they wanted to move me to a different floor. They told me that I'd have to be there mandatory for about a week, for physical healing, but due to the nature of the injuries I'd have to stay for another few days for psychological observation and evaluation. I wanted to curse at them. Forcing me to get help. I hated it. 

But I kept my mouth shut, just nodded my head and listened to them run their mouths. I was angry, didn't like their stupid policies, didn't want to stay there any longer than I had to. I hated feeling so helpless, because I was. I had no say in what they were doing, couldn't do anything about it, didn't like not having control over myself.

Also, they informed me that once I was in the other room they were going to take all the tubes and stuff out, let me have actual food. That was kind of cool, I supposed, though I didn't say anything at the time. I didn't want to give them that satisfaction. I wasn't about to do that to myself. When they were done feeding me all that crap they asked me how I was feeling, and I told them that I was in a lot of pain. They said they'd give me some drugs for it, and that's all I remember. One of the things was a sedative, so that when I woke up I was in the new room. 

When I opened my eyes I noted that my arms were less bandaged, that the pain was significantly gone. I was able to sit up, crack my back. I took a step of adventure and got out of bed, too, dizzy for a moment as I walked slowly over to window, left hand holding my right arms. It stung a lot, though it wasn't such a loud pain anymore.

I pushed the curtains aside and looked out. The view was over a parking lot. In the distance I saw mountains, between there and where I stood was a town. It was dusk, everything dusted in darkness, quiet and sad. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the window. I felt like I was in prison.

"Amber…where are you?"


	59. A Murder of One

**Chapter 59**

I felt so sick of sleeping, so sick of being awake. I wanted to scratch off my skin, worse than the fire had done, that's how boring it was and how much it was getting to me. They had a tiny TV in the room but it only got two or three channels, all of which had nothing on them worth watching, even in a state of desperate boredom. It got to a point where I faked being in pain just so that I would get drugs to knock me out. 

In the morning they came to me with actual food. Actually, I would call it a disturbing imitation of food but I wasn't ungrateful for it. After that they said I could shower…which wasn't as bad as I thought it would be because they let me go alone and didn't have to watch and all that shit. My left arm was working enough that I could do everything by myself, and they wrapped the bandages on both arms with plastic so that they wouldn't get wet.

Washing my hair felt fabulous, everything did. It made me feel a lot better, being clean, allowed me to get out of the room and clear my head a little bit. I tried to piece together all the lies that I could tell that would get me out of the hospital quicker, all the deals I could try to pull with Mark to see if he could help me out with that, too, but knowing him I wasn't sure if he'd be willing to help me. I knew that he'd want me to get help. 

Mark…he just wanted me to be happy. He took what happened to Amber really hard, too, and didn't want me being so upset. It was a lot easier for him to get over things.

When I thought about it, and calmly as I showered, not crying or anything, it wasn't really what was in the past that bothered me, what I'd seen, that she was dead. It was really the thought of the future, imagining a life without her, knowing that I'd never see her again…

I remembered the night that Raven had tried to kill himself. I wanted to talk to him, really talk to him, and know how he felt about me doing that. The day after he'd done that to himself he was fine, given, he hadn't set himself on fire, so it was quicker for him. And we sat down and talked for serious, not all fooling around or about non-important things. I wanted to talk to him about how he felt about me, about Amber, about Saphrin. It hurt me that when we'd talked that time, I told him that I'd die without Amber. I recalled the conversation.

_"If I lose her I'm nothing. And last night I thought I'd lost her. I'd rather have died last night than lived years without knowing her," he'd said to me. _

And I'd replied, "_Yes…I know how you feel."_

"_Do you?"_

_"Yes I do. And you're right. I'd die if I didn't have Amber."_

It was so true. I wanted to die, honestly. Sure, a part of me didn't. A part of me still wanted to hang out with Mark and Raven and Saphrin, hell even Evan and their frog. But such a bigger part of my heart wanted to be gone, wanted to stop all the pain and be with Amber again, if that was even feasible. Even if it wasn't, I wanted to _know_ that it wasn't, didn't want to be in life all clueless and not knowing where she was. I would've rather been in pain, knowing that we couldn't be together than being in pain, knowing nothing. 

But I remembered what that dream had said, and didn't know if it meant anything. The woman who looked like Amber, smoking cigarettes, so playful and sexy and teasing. Who said "It's not your time yet, Kane." I could only imagine what it meant. The doctors had mentioned to me that I was lucky to be alive, to which, I silently retorted "Lucky? Who the hell are _you kidding?" But I understood what they meant. It was unheard of. I'd lost a lot of blood, cut my arm on a major vein, had severe burn trauma. It was one of those miracle things. I should've been dead._

There was just…something else that kept me inside my body. Something that they didn't know about, nor did I. Mark knew, I knew that he knew. He just wouldn't admit it. 

That woman had something to do with me being alive. Maybe it wasn't Amber, maybe it was. Maybe she'd shape-shifted herself to look like Amber just so that I'd pay attention. Or maybe it was all in my imagination and it was just some weird one in a hundred coincidence that I hadn't been killed. 

The thoughts stayed in my head even when I returned to my room, when I sat cross-legged on my bed and stared down at my left arm. The right one I could still barely move. It didn't hurt quite as much but was still painful.

When I thought of it I couldn't even visualize what I'd done to the left.

I think that's why I started peeling away the bandage. Actually, I know if that's why, and because I was trying to figure out the mystery of this woman, of my existence. I wanted to see exactly how "lucky" I was, or if they were just saying that to make me feel better, if they were just scratches.

"Jesus Kane," I muttered aloud when I got the gauze pulled away. Tiny black stitches held the skin of my forearm together. There were four cuts, one horizontal right up near the inside of my elbow, another deep and vertical. One was diagonal, crossing over both of the others, and the last one was parallel to the smaller horizontal one and went directly over the veins right at my wrist. They were right. I should've been dead.

All the stitches were dark and sinister looking, like little teeth. Some of them were tangled over each other, mainly where the few lines had intersected. Some kind of ointment had been spread over all of it, too, so it was all shiny. I flexed the muscles in my arm, kind of ashamed at how much I'd been neglecting them, how thin I was getting. The pain was more like thin heat, radiating all through my body. 

It made me really want to talk to Mark. 

Which, in turn, made me anxious and impatient. So to quench that, I got up and paced the room a little, went into the little bathroom that I had for myself, looked at my reflection for a little, fondly remembering my dream. For whatever reason, maybe after all the shit I'd been through, my reflection didn't bother me, didn't upset me. So I just stared. 

When I heard someone humming it caught me off guard. I hadn't even noticed her coming in. I stepped back into the room to see a girl looking out the window, her back to me, waves of dark curls cascading down her back. The humming kept on. She made no sign of knowing that I was there, yet wasn't startled by the sounds I made in closing the bathroom door, walking into the room, clearing my throat. Finally she stopped, and said:

"A Murder of One," very softly. The voice felt like a bullet tearing through me. Then she started humming again, singing as she turned around to look at me. "Blue morning, blue morning, wrapped in strands of fist and bone…curiosity, kitten…"

"Kitten,"  I said. I felt like I was going to get all emotional, like my whole morning of being calm and not getting upset meant nothing. She smiled weakly, then walked over and hugged me, arms reaching all the way around my midsection. I patted her on the back with my left hand, afraid to for a moment because the stitches were exposed and kind of gruesome, but I thought it would've been mean not to return it. 

"I should've warned you," she said, and started crying. I remembered what Becky had told me about the fire.

"You knew this would happen," I said coldly. I pulled away from her and stared down. I couldn't help the rush of anger that filled me. 

She looked miserable, just like the last time I'd seen her. "I-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked her. I wasn't really angry with her, I knew I wasn't, but I couldn't help it. She backed away, like she was afraid of me. It hurt my heart. I sighed, shaking and lowering my head, telling myself to cool it. "Sorry…it's not your fault. Just uhh…what are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened," she said softly. "I just wanted to come see if you were okay…"

"How'd you hear?" I asked, looking back up. She had wiped her eyes and had lost a lot of color in her face, looking at my cautiously. 

"I dreamed it…" she trailed off, waited to make sure I wasn't going to yell at her or something before she went on. "Don't worry though, it hasn't been in the newspapers or anything. Or on the internet. No one knows. I swear."

I nodded. "I believe you," I winced at the tightness I felt when I ran my hand through my hair, then crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs. I was so tired of the damn bed. I gestured for her to sit down. "So how long have you known?"

"For like a week…they just weren't letting you have visitors until now, only Mark I guess."

"Saphrin was there," I said. "I think Raven, too. I never really saw him though."

She nodded. "Oh." 

We were really awkward around each other. I didn't really know what to say. Neither did she, I supposed. I wondered how she'd been holding up since Amber had died but I didn't have the nerve to ask her. 

"It's been hard," she said, which startled me. I felt kind of uncomfortable with her doing that, and remembered how Mark could do it sometimes, too. I just looked at her. She looked like she was going to cry again. "I've been having a lot of nightmares. About what happened. I'm sorry that you had to see it, I saw it too…"

A thought came into my head. I stared at her for a moment, not knowing if I could ask her. I thought about it for a few minutes, discreetly, looking away and hoping that she wouldn't read my thoughts. When the silence came too much for me to bear I asked her anyway, just for the sake of hearing our voices.

"Do you know who did it?" I asked her. I think I snapped at her. She jumped a little, and her eyes widened, and then she stood up, backing away from me and towards the door. I stood up, I felt like strangling her. "Kitten I'm telling you right fucking now, if you know who did it…"

"I don't," she whispered quickly.

"Don't lie to me. If you know who did it, and you don't tell me, you're the one that's going to be dead," I hissed at her. Her hands were shaking as one of them reached up and covered her mouth.

"I can't tell you,"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You are so fucked in the head!" I shouted. "WHY NOT?"

"It's not time for you to know," she spit out, and then turned and ran out of the room. I ran out of her, to the doorway, unable to bring myself further. My arm was absolutely killing me, I couldn't stand to move any of my body anymore. But I stood there for a while, glaring down the hallway, wondering where she'd gone off to, fucking _pissed. I was thinking clearly, I wasn't sad, I wasn't about to kill myself. I was about to kill __her. In that little stupid head of hers was a name (or names?) that I needed, and she wasn't telling me. I wanted to kill her. Really. She was a psycho, she couldn't handle the gifts she had the way Mark could. _

When I noticed the people who were staring at me as I stood there I groaned and went back into my room, curled up in the bed. My brain was throbbing, I though it was going to start leaking out of my ears at any moment. I should've been dead right then. There was no reason for me to be alive. I wanted to be dead. But I wanted whoever killed my whole reason for existence to die with me. I wasn't going to just give up like that.

_Fucking bitch, Kitten. I kept thinking. _

Everything that hurt on my body, my arms, my heart, my head…it was all because of Amber, all for Amber. The reason I was alive was for her, so that I could kill whoever did this. And here was this fucking girl who knew the answer to what I wanted to know and couldn't even tell me. There were so many violent things I wanted to do to her…

I told myself to calm down, to get it out of my head. It "wasn't time" for me to know yet, just like I wasn't supposed to die. I'd known her in the past, she'd been a sweet girl. I trusted her to some extent, had faith that when the time was right she'd tell me, or I'd find out. Maybe she was right. Maybe if she'd told me I would've rushed out to kill the bastard without thinking, without considering that he'd put up a fight and with my handicap maybe I'd be the one who lost. The more I thought about it the more it made sense, though I couldn't really help how angry I was.

"Kane," the voice startled me out of my thoughts and I turned my head to see Mark.  He smiled and came into the room, sitting down. He looked at me for a moment before his expression softened. "What's wrong?"

How could I answer that? Everything was wrong. 

"I was just…thinking," I told him. I sat up and looked at him, looking away from him and down at all the stitches. "Mark, why am I alive? I should be dead right now, there's no reason why someone should survive this."

His face was so solemn, vaguely hurt, like he didn't know what to say to me. Finally he just sighed. "You're lucky to be alive, Kane."

"Lucky?" I glared at him. "What is lucky about me being alive? Okay, for you, maybe. For Raven and Saphrin, whatever. But what in the world is lucky about me being alive right now, Mark? Honestly? Why don't you tell me?"

"Kane," he said softly. Our eyes were locked on each other.

"Seriously, Mark. There is no reason for me to be alive and someone is keeping me here and you know it and you don't want to admit it. And that's not fair to me because I don't like it. What part of it don't you understand?" My eyes started to sting. "What's so hard for you to grasp? I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Alive."

He didn't say anything. 

"And I can't go on like this," I continued. "I can't. Really. It's too hard. I'm alone, and don't have her with me, I keep seeing things…I swear to Christ, Mark, I'll be at the house and she'll be there, and she'll be doing the most ordinary things and I think she's…" my voice started to leave me, cracking. I paused and swayed a little, my head feeling light, the tears falling silently. "And I think she's actually there," I said quietly. "But she's not. It's like having to lose her all over again." 

"I'm really sorry," he said, rubbing his temples. "I'm really sorry you have to go through all of this."

"You know what?" I wiped the tears with my left hand, ignoring the strain it caused. "I'm really fucking tired of everyone telling me how sorry they are. You're fuckin' sorry, Saph is sorry, Raven is sorry, everyone's fucking sorry. You know what? _None_ of you know what it feels like. _I_ am the one that's sorry that I have to put up with all of this. Do you know what happened to me, Mark? Really know what happened?" I demanded of him. He looked like I was killing him, I probably was, but I couldn't help myself. I was tired of keeping my mouth shut. "You don't know _shit_, Mark. You don't know who did this to her, you don't know what I've been going through, you didn't _love_ her, you didn't even create a life! I had a daughter, Mark, don't you understand? And do you even know what it feels like to be burned? You set the fucking house on fire, you could cause all of it and not deal with it. How do you think I fucking felt? How do you think I felt watching our parents burn to death, being set on fire, not being able to protect myself? How do you think that felt?

"Why don't you go find out and then tell me that you're fuckin' sorry, okay?"

It surprised me that I'd actually said it. Almost thirty years holding all of that inside…

"Alright. You're right, Kane, I don't know what you're going through," he said, and then leaned forward. "But I can feel it coming off of you like heat. I don't like seeing you like this, Kane. Forget about whatever happened between us in the past, we both know that we can get on each other's nerves…but now. Right now. Just hold on. For me?"

"Mark!" I said, exasperated. I felt the frustration building in my chest, felt like I was going to explode. "Why won't you understand, Mark?" I was so angry at myself for crying, I wanted all the drama to stop. "What don't you understand about me wanting to be dead? Dead! Gone! Not-alive! I want to be _with_ her, Mark, I don't _want _to get over her!"

"Kane, I'm not trying to be selfish, I understand that you want to die," he sounded so tired, so aged. I had the feeling that he was very quietly pissed off at me. "But I mean…since this has happened you've barely even made the effort of picking up your life. Look at me. Raven. Saphrin. We keep going. And it's hard, it is, but we keep going. And I hate seeing you like this. I want you to at least try, can't you?"

"Why am I still alive?" I asked him bluntly. The color ran from his face. "You know and you're not telling me and it's not fair. I'm supposed to be dead right now."

"No you're not, not if she doesn't want you to be…"

A surge of frustrated energy cracked through me, and I picked up a box of tissues that was on a table next to the bed and threw it at him. I couldn't help it, it was an impulse. It was also left-handed and sloppy, and hit his shoulder. The second I did it I realized how immature I'd been being, and looked away from him, trying to calm down. I breathed in slowly, looking down at the stitches, looking over to the wraps on my other arm. I felt stupid for throwing the tissues at him. 

"Sorry," I mumbled. He groaned and stood up, walking over and very calmly putting them back. I hated him for doing that, it made me feel patronized. "Look, Mark," I said, hesitant. He leaned against the wall beside the window, only a few feet away from the bed, and looked at me. Slowly I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "Listen…they're making me stay here for observation, even if my arms are all healed…"

"…and?" he crossed his arms over his chest. Oh great, I'd pissed him off. 

"And…" something occurred to me that I hadn't even thought of. "Wait a second…how the hell did I even get here?"

"I knew something was wrong. You were still conscious when I got there. You were setting things on fire."

"I was?" I felt a little alarmed. "What things?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, like the couch and a picture of Amber…"

My stomach felt like it had fallen to the floor. "What!? What picture of Amber?" my whole body felt light, and I was shaking. 

"The…" he looked at me and sighed. "The one she gave you on Christmas a couple years ago, remember? The black and white one? With the flowers?"

I couldn't do anything but just stare at him in disbelief. "I…I…" the words would even form. I was stuttering, couldn't piece together what I even had to say. His eyebrows came together and he reached over to put his hand on my shoulder, then sat down next to me on the bed. "Mark, I don't know what's wrong with me…" 

"Nothing wrong with you," he said quietly. It was hard to tell if he meant it or not.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I leaned against him, rested my head on his shoulder. "Why would I destroy that? What the hell is wrong with me?"

He hugged me very gently, not touching my right arm. I leaned against him, thought of that night when we were kids, when I fell down the stairs and just stared at him, helpless, unable to even shout out his name. I felt the burn run through my face, stinging my eyes. I tried so hard not to cry, but I couldn't control it. I was weeping. 

"I want to go home," I said to him, holding a fistful of his shirt. "And I don't know where that is. I want to be with Amber and with Mom and with Claudette. Why did this have to happen to me? Why fucking me, of all people? What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

For the first time I realized what Kitten had meant when we'd talked that time. When she said I didn't deserve things. I wanted to tell Mark about her coming to see me but I couldn't bring up my nerve to do it. Mark didn't answer me, just held onto me, played with my hair a little. When I'd calmed down some time later I sat up and looked him straight in the eyes. I needed to know the truth, not caring about the masochism in my curiosity. I just needed to know. And he needed to know, too.

"Kitten came to see me today," I told him. He just stared at me, waiting for me to say something else. "She knew that it was going to happen," I said. Mark's face went deadly still, like he was afraid of what I was going to ask him. "Did you know, too, Mark? I really need to know. There's nothing that can change it now but I need to know."

It took him a while before he answered. "I wouldn't have been able to stop it."

My jaw dropped. "You…you _ knew_?" I started to hyperventilate. Mark looked irreparably sad. 

"There was nothing anyone could've done about it," he said, and looked away. "She wanted it that way."

"WHO?" I cried at him. I reached up and grabbed my hair, tugging on it in frustration. 

 He opened his mouth to answer, looking incredibly distressed, and the vaguest trace of a sound had come out of his mouth when a louder sound was heard and we both looked towards the door. Raven was trudging in, holding Evan. Saphrin was behind them, looking away from me. 

"Oh, hey Kane!" Raven said brightly, and took a seat. Mark and I acted like nothing had been going on, just turned and talked to them. 

I shifted and leaned against the propped up head of the bed, closing my left arm over my stomach and just watching, not saying anything. Mark stood and sat down in a chair, Raven sat down with Evan in the other. Saphrin sat on the end of my bed, looking at me quietly, knowing that something was wrong. I just ignored her, ignored all of them, said hello to Raven and told him that I was feeling okay, let them all talk to each other and leave me alone. I was too pissed off to deal with them, didn't want to. 

Mark kept staring at me, it made me feel very uncomfortable. Every time I would catch him I would glare for a moment until he turned away. Neither of us wanted to fight just then, or make a scene in front of our friends. We'd wait until we were alone before we were verbally at each other's throats.

After a while Mark excused himself and said there were some errands he needed to run, so stood up and left. I didn't say goodbye to him, just followed him out with my eyes. A few seconds passed before any of us said anything, at which point Raven and Saphrin both fell solemn, their plastic smiles vanishing. Evan was around six months old by then and Raven was clinging to him. I felt a twinge of jealousy watching them. Evan seemed to be a happy kid. The older he became, the more I could see Raven in his face.

"Kane…" Raven said to me. I looked away from his son and up to his eyes. We stared at each other for a moment. "You okay, man?"

I sighed. "You know…I don't even know how to answer that anymore…"

He frowned and stood, setting Evan down on the bed so that the child was sitting up against his mother. Raven walked over to me, the color running form his face as he threw himself against me in a hug, touching neither of my arms and just pressing out bodies together, wrapping his arms around my neck. I laughed a little.

"Sorry," he said when he pulled away. Saphrin was crying a little, Evan was oblivious as always. "I just…wanted to wait for Mark to leave before I talked to you…" his eyes clouded for a moment. He leaned against the wall a couple of feet away, just as Mark had. "But, holy _shit_, Kane," he spit out, touching his chest. "You scared the _fuck_ outta me." He slapped me on the back of the head. "Never do that again, you fucker."

I cracked a half-smile. "_You_ were scared? You should've seen the nightmare I was having."

He looked completely pissed off. "Kane."

"What?" I shifted nervously. I really didn't want him angry with me. I saw that his eyes were locked on my stitches. I shifted again, turning my arm so that he wouldn't see. He shook his head out of the trance he was in and his face fell. His hands were trembling.

"Fuck," he muttered, and let out a deep breath, tilting his head towards the ceiling, looking away, tears covering his eyes. "I know I probably…" his voice caught in his throat, "…seem pretty pissed off…I mean, I am a little. But…fuck, Kane. Jesus Christ, you almost _died_. What the fuck were you _thinking_?"

I rolled my eyes. "Raven, don't give me this shit. Tell me- what were _you_ thinking that night? Remember? On the roof? You better remember, I mean, think about it. Who was the one that found you up there bleeding all over the place and saved your ass?"

Tears started to come from his eyes. As they were prone to do, they started shifting into gold. He bit his lip and a tremor went through his body. "Yeah…" he whispered. "Kane, I'm sorry. You just…scared me…"

"What happened?" I asked him.

"Huh?" he wiped the tears with his hands and looked at me. 

"What happened? For you. These past few days?"

"Oh…" he looked at Saphrin, then sighed, then walked away and sat back down in one of the chairs. "Well, Mark called a few hours after it happened and told us what happened, so we rushed over here as soon as we could. And none of us could see you for a while but by that night when they were all done patching you up we just went in and kept you company. Like…you woke up a bunch of times but they kept drugging you for pain and it knocked you out. So then we were just chillin' out with you pretty much."

I frowned. "I woke up?"

Raven nodded.

"Did I say anything?"

Raven nodded.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Well…?"

"Um…" he looked at Saphrin, then back to me. "This once you were asking for Amber, and saying her name and tripping out. It was really scary. This other time you asked for cookies," he couldn't stop laughing then, and I laughed a little, too. After a moment we all calmed down. I looked out the window. Raven and Saphrin looked at each other, Evan let out a squeal of happiness. I remembered the way Claudette had done that when she was a baby. Remembered changing her and holding her and what she smelled like. I remembered how warm and soft she was. 

Now it was just a dull ache. 

"Kane…" Raven said quietly. I looked at him. It seemed that he was translating everything that the two of them wanted to say to each other. "Listen…I understand why you did this. And I do remember that night, really clearly. I was upset because I thought I lost Saphrin, and I hadn't. I just want you to know that I-" he glanced at Saph "-_we_ want you to know that if this is…what you want, or need to do…it's, umm…" he seemed at a loss for words. "We understand," he finally put together. I could only stare at him, at a loss for words myself.

"Thanks," I said softly. 

"But…" he started to say. Saphrin finished for him, reaching over and touching my unburned hand, giving it a squeeze.

"We want revenge as much as you do. Kill the sonuvabitch, Kane. Kill him and then do whatever you want."****


	60. Amber Smith

**Chapter 60**

The second day of my consciousness I learned what not to say to doctors.

That was the day that they took some of the bandages off, the day that Mark brought me some of my own clothes so that I didn't have to wear the shit that the hospital gave me, the day that I first had to talk to someone.

It was a woman, she came to my room and asked if it was a good time. Even if I'd told her no she would've stayed, and so I just shrugged. She had a clipboard and a pen, dark hair that was collected in a bun on the top of her head. She introduced herself. Dr. Smith. She was short. I was sitting on the bed and she looked up at me as she walked over, tucking the clipboard under her arm and extending her left hand to shake, knowing that I couldn't move my right arm that much still. She shook, then pulled one of the chairs to the side of my bed, sitting down, crossing her legs and laying the clipboard on her lap. She leaned forward, made me feel like I was talking to a guidance counselor in a high school or something. 

She had been one of the doctors who'd first come in and told me about how I needed to stay there. I held my left arm, afraid to look at the parts that were exposed, staring at her, nodding as she spoke, not saying anything.

"I'm a psychologist," she was telling me. "I just want to talk to you for a while and see what's going on, how you're feeling, stuff like that. Really simple, really."

She was younger than me and was talking to me like we were friends. I was getting angry on the inside, felt the heat rush through my body as I just listened to everything she was saying, talking about their stupid procedures and social workers and psychiatrists and doctors and therapy and all kinds of shit. After all that she asked if I had any questions, when I said no she smiled and nodded her head.

"Is it okay that I call you Kane?" I nodded. "Good. Well Kane, you know that I'm Dr. Smith, but you can call me Amber."

Amber.

_Amber._

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Now was not the time to mourn. "No I can't." I said to her. She tapped her pen against the clipboard, not writing anything, staring into me. She wanted me to tell her why, was waiting for me to…_open up_ to her or something. The only reason I answered was because I wanted her to stop staring. To be perfectly honest it made me really sensitive about my face. "Amber is…_was_ uhh…my wife's name…"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, then she scribbled something on her clipboard. I couldn't think of anything but wrestling, what it felt like to hit people with a chair. I wanted to whack her over the head with the damn thing as she tapped her pen against it. She didn't sense my animosity, or didn't address it as I glared at her, then turned away, leaning back in the bed. I stared out the window as she talked.

"Kane-"

"Mr. Callaway," I interrupted, not looking at her. I heard her pen.           

Scribble scribble scribble.

"Mr. Callaway," she said, and paused. I think she wanted me to look at her, but I didn't, stared at the filthy window glass. The outside of it was all grimy and disgusting. Purposely I kept staring. "We need to discuss some things that might be kind of sensitive…" 

I didn't look at her. "Yeah?"

"Yes…and the sooner we can set some grounds with each other, the sooner I can leave you alone." 

Damn professionals, knowing that I wanted her to go away. I wondered vaguely if it hurt her feelings at all, then realized that I really didn't care.

"First of all…" waiting for me to look at her. I didn't. She sighed. Scribbled. "Why did you do this to yourself?" she asked me. My eyes shifted and looked down at the stitches. Mostly everything was healing nicely, they said that they'd take out some of the stitches in a couple days. Other sections would have to wait. My right arm…I didn't look at it. "Mr. Callaway," she said again, and I hadn't even realized that I didn't answer her right away. "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

Finally I turned to her, and glared. "I didn't."

Scribble. Sigh. Leaning in like a guidance counselor.

"Mr. Callaway, the wounds were self-inflicted and possibly fatal. What were you trying to do?"

Okay bitch. I was angry, she was arguing with me and not doing her job. I felt a strong urge to punch her in the face. "I wasn't trying to kill myself," I said, practically growling, glaring. She tapped her fingernails on the arm of the chair, like she was nervous.

She stared. I stared right the hell back. She wanted me to keep talking without her asking me to. Neither of us would let down. Finally she turned down. Scribbled. Looked back up.

"So tell me then, Mr. Callaway," she said, and tapped the pen against her chin. "Why did you do this to yourself? What was happening?"

"Do you have any children?" I asked her. She leaned back a little, looking at my suspiciously. I knew her rules, she was going to tell me that she wasn't supposed to discuss her personal life with inmates…I mean, patients. I waited for her to answer, knew that if she just said "no" that she was telling the truth. But she didn't answer. I turned away from her again. "What would you do if you went home from work today and found your husband and your kids murdered?" 

No answer. When I turned back to her she seemed very timid and frail. The violent thoughts in my head were enough to make me look down, my knee crooked in front of me on the bed, hair falling into my face. I didn't want to look at her, didn't want to think these things. "You'd want to die, too, don't you think?"

She cleared her throat but I didn't let her talk. "I didn't try to kill myself," I told her. I knew I was lying but I wanted her to know my intentions. "I can't die yet. She won't let me."

Okay, said too much. I couldn't help it, I'd had barely any real human contact except for Raven and Saph, and of course my brother. I just forgot my filter, said things to her that I didn't want her to hear, knowing she'd want to keep me here forever. 

"You create a life," I said to her. "You create a little fucking person and you love them so much and then…then she's taken away from you. Not even like having a miscarriage or something. I had a daughter, I was able to hold her and change her and hug her and play with her…she was _there_, she was _real_ and now she's gone because someone had to come take her away from me."

"Oh…" she stopped tapping, the room was filled with silence except for a couple things floating in from the hallway. And now I wanted to talk, wanted to get a couple things out.

"It's just like…" I glanced at her, eyes softened, looking away before she noticed that I wasn't pissed off anymore. "So yeah, I did want to die. But I really don't want to now, I was just all…shocked and did it on impulse."

"What shocked you?"

I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell her. Then I realized, and almost started to cry. Mark was right, I needed help. I needed to do this for Amber, do it because I needed to find who killed her and I needed to stop breaking down and crying and setting myself on fire all the time. For her, I felt the blush in my face and sighed. "I kept umm…seeing things," I said. Scribble. The sound of the pen against the paper was irritating me.

"Hallucinating?"

"…Yeah. Like…I would think that Amber was around, or my daughter, or even my…son," I turned my head back to her quickly, I knew I must've looked desperate. "She was umm…she was pregnant with our son when she was killed. I never even saw him, he was only a few weeks old in there, and she was going to tell me the night she…died. But umm…I kept visualizing him and seeing him…and then I thought that she was in our house in Vermont so I went there, and then remembered what happened and I freaked out. I did it on impulse."

She narrowed her eyes, inquisitive. "How do you know that it would've been a boy?"

My chest ached. I felt this overwhelming feeling of numbness come over me, unable to cry, unable to really feel. I told her without breaking down, the words just barely passing through my lips. "Amber knew. She knew when we had Claudette that it would be a girl. She just…I don't know. She knew. Like the way my brother knows things."

Shit. Shouldn't have said that, either.

"…_Knows_ things, Mr. Callaway?"

I sighed. "You know, psychic? My brother is psychic. Amber really wasn't, but…I don't know. What the hell, I said I don't know, I just know that she felt it was a girl when Claudette was born and knew that Armand was a boy."

"You said she died before she told you…how do you know?" Scribble. God I was getting fed up with this whore.

"Our friends told me…after. I was a wrestler, you know?" she nodded. "Well Amber and our friend Saphrin were planning out a feud and whenever I would ask about it they sounded like they had a great grip on it. And it was just a cover up so that I wouldn't know she was pregnant. But then…after…they told me the truth."

"And what about Armand?"

I winced. "What about him?"

"Why do you call the child that?"

"Because of the Vampire Chronicles," I said. Blank stare. I explained. "There are these books, by Anne Rice-"

"I know what they are," she said. "But…why Armand?"

In my head I visualized what would happen if I slapped her across the face. "That was Amber's favorite character. And she loved that name. Just like…we though Claudia was a pretty name, but didn't want to name our daughter after someone, so instead we changed it to Claudette. And Armand…it's a cool name. I'm nearly positive that if he'd survived that's what we would've called him."

Scribble. Tap tap tap.

"So…" she propped her elbow up against her knee, leaned her chin into the palm of her hand. "Tell me, Mr. Callaway, what happened with your wife?"

My heart was pounding, it was starting to get hard to breathe. I clenched my fist, fidgeted a little. "Is that uh…necessary to talk about?"

Her eyes narrowed a little. "I think it has a lot to do with your current condition. I want to know how you feel about it."

I just stared. "You're fucking joking…right?" she shook her head. I lifted up my arm, waved it around to show the stitches. "How the fuck you do think I feel, you stupid cunt?" I snapped. The harshness of the words shocked both of us.

Word of advice: Never call your psychologist a cunt.

She gripped the edges of the chair. I'd scared her, I knew it. I tucked my arm back where it had been, tried to calm my breathing.

"Calm down, Mr. Callaway," she said, a manta. It was how she was taught to handle people, I could tell. The way she treated everyone who didn't mean shit to her. It was all a routine for her by now. 

"Sorry…" I said. "Just…I don't want to talk about it."

"But-"

"Can you leave?"

I couldn't detect her reaction. She just kind of stared, did that old gimmick of watching for me to add something. So I did:

"Please?"

She clipped the pen down to the board, clasped her hands, rested them on top of it. Her lips pursed, eyebrows coming together. I stared at her, felt the anger leaving me a little. She was a professional, she should've seen how miserable I was and how much I _didn't_ want to be talking about all of it. Maybe she took the hint because she finally stood up after a depressing staring contest, in which I almost started to cry. She didn't try to shake my hand this time, just gave me a nod. 

"Alright," she said. She tucked the clipboard under one of her arms, shoved her hands in her pockets. "Someone else will be in to talk to you in a few hours, okay?" I shrugged and she just smiled, then left. The room was filled with silence. 

I gave her a head start, taking a few minutes before I got up and walked into the corridor, searching around for the nurses' station. The one thing I've always hated most about Mark is just the fact that he's my _brother_. If anyone else treated me the way that he could at times, I would never speak to them again and it would be easy to do that…but, he's my brother.

I admit, even times we weren't speaking to each other I always knew it wasn't the end. We hadn't even gotten in a fight just then, just…got heated at each other. I actually kind of missed talking to him, since I was so bored. To keep myself from going over the edge I wasn't really thinking of anything bad, just sifting through memories of our times as friends. I think of wrestling matches, pranks on each other, get warm remembering that time on Valentine's Day when he made up with me. That time I was hung over and he'd confessed all the feelings he'd hid from me all those years. It's funny to think that I could actually feel this way…but, I actually missed him.

At the nurses station I was towering over the tall desk and none of them would look at me. I asked for the phone, called Mark's cell. He picked up barely after the first ring, like he'd known. Pshh. Who needs Caller ID when they're psychic?

"Kane," he said. I lowered my voice, wanting them all to avert their eyes from what I was saying.

"Hi…can you come?"

"What's wrong?"

I groaned. "Nothing, really. I'm just bored. I need…I need someone to talk to…" I hoped he'd heard me, my voice was barely above a whisper.

"Talk?" he laughed a little. "Kane, weren't you supposed to have therapy today or something?"

"Ugh…I don't know _what_ that was, but it wasn't therapy, I'll tell you that much." Mark sighed. I was probably pissing him off, he wanted me to get help. "Just…come because I need to talk to you," I said. 

"I'll be there soon," he said, and then hung up. I handed the phone back to the nurse, trudged back to my room, plopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. What a coincidence that the bitch's name was Amber. Didn't _that_ just make me want to shoot myself in the head…

It wasn't so bad, though. Even though it hadn't been that long, and I'd been relatively calm, since I'd been awake, thinking of her didn't make me miserable. It had transformed into some dull throb that matched what I felt from my wounds. They were all the same now, and they would heal. 


	61. Renholder

**Chapter 61**

A couple days later, after talking to a few random people and being put on anti-depressants, still being bored out of my fucking mind, some doctor came in to tell me a situation. She told me that there were some rooming problems, that the hospital was getting too crowded, that they'd have it settled within a couple days, but that just temporary I'd have a roommate. As if things weren't messed up enough, right?

It wasn't so bad, I guess. Raven and Saphrin were still around, hadn't started traveling again yet, came by every day to spend time with me. Mark, too. And I was so desperate for his company that I ignored all those things that had been said between us, wanted to save it for after the hospital.

The roommate was some guy named Chris. He wasn't so bad, I guess. We didn't talk to each other that much, he didn't watch wrestling so he didn't know who I was, and that was good. We pretty much ignored each other, he seemed pretty out of it anyway. He was there because of some drug problem, seemed all distracted. 

That was the day that they took the bandages off my burned arm. I could kind of move it then, it didn't hurt so painfully, just was sore. I could do certain things with it, and they said I could start a kind of physical therapy then if I wanted to, but I said I didn't. When they took the bandages off I could only stare at what I'd done to myself, amazed. It brought back weird memories of when I was a kid, when it was all healing. Weird because I didn't know how to feel about it, because I'd been so battered and bruised that I couldn't get upset over it now. I was too detached for that at the time. 

It also made me think about Paul…I wondered what was going on with him, what he was doing with his life. It wasn't that I liked him, no, I hated him, as I always have. It's just that…being in the hospital, being drained by all the drugs, being bored, was making me think too much. I was only wondering because…it was just a strange thought. He was alive, somewhere in the world, living…I just wondered what he was up to. He was up to something, right?

Maybe he was dying. That would be pretty fun, right?

Anyway…Mark had decided to take a while off, talked it out with Vince and everything. He was staying in a hotel in the same town as the hospital, the same place where Raven and Saph were staying for a while. Raven was going to leave for the road again, Saph was gonna stay for a while longer. I appreciated that. Maybe we'd built some bridges over the whole thing, because she didn't seem as distant with me at all since we'd had that talk. And since then we'd both apologized to each other…I felt happy that she was healing too. I felt really bad for not seeing how hurt she'd been by everything, as bad as I had been.

She was being really good to me, though. That was what was important, that was what made me forget to hold a grudge against her for being cold to me for the previous couple months. 

When they took the bandages off, and I had more mobility in my arm from it, it started hurting again. On and off it would, now it did again. When I complained about it, they just gave me more painkillers, ones which made me drowsy. Chris was staring at me, I bet he was jealous. They were trying to give him rehab, weren't giving him any medication. I felt kind of bad for him, actually. He seemed like a nice kid, he was in his twenties I think. And that afternoon I'd already had Saphrin and Mark visiting me, no one had come to see him. He was so mysterious…

I was thinking about him when I fell asleep. I was wondering about who he was, why he were there, what he was like. I figured if we were both going to be in the same room, even "temporarily" as they put it, I would get to know him. I made a promise to myself that when I woke up I'd make conversation with him. The room was getting hazy around me as I thought about it, as I looked from his side of the room and the bed they'd shoved in there to window next to me, outside, over the trees, looking at what I could see of the parking lot. When I looked at the ceiling everything just kind of smeared together.

It wasn't like falling asleep, I felt kind of like someone was pulling me down. Like I was drowning. The dream world and the hospital room kind of overlapped as I lay there, as I tried to make my vision focus, as the music started to fill my head. Renholder. It was another song. By A Perfect Circle. I knew that I was going to have a nightmare again. I wanted to wake up, I thrashed around in darkness, blinded, wanting to get away. But…the reality of it sunk in as I calmed down. I'd been drugged, it wasn't my choice, I wasn't going to wake up.

The song just surrounded me, in blackness. I couldn't tell where it was coming from and didn't know where I was. I was really disoriented, felt like how it was when I was unconscious in the hospital, when Mark was there to talk to me. I tried calling out to him but made no sound.

As disorienting as the music was, it was also kind of peaceful. After struggling for a moment I finally relaxed, tried to figure out what was going on. Over the music I could hear quiet voices, not whispering, but just far away. Slowly it got louder, and I could see something in the blackness. Hear things, over the music, too. Slowing fading in was Portishead, Mourning Air. It got confused, mixing with Renholder. 

Beth's high, almost weak sounding voice was strung into everything else. "Have I got the strength to ask? Beyond this window I feel so alone until we have total honestly. If I tremble or fall, I'm reaching out in this mourning air…"

I could smell food, it made me feel warm inside. And the voice grew louder beneath the two intertwining songs. Just as I grew accustomed to the song, it faded out, focusing just on Amber. She was in the kitchen, cooking something, singing to herself as she stirred something around in a saucepan. She was singing something by Red Hot Chili Peppers, pacing the room to the refrigerator, wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans.

"And now I see you in a beautiful and different light…he's just a man and any damage done will be all right…" she sang. She grabbed a bottle of milk out of the fridge, walked back to where she was standing, poured some into a cup before putting it back. She was standing next to the stove again when Jake waddled in, rubbed against her feet. She giggled, took a pinch of breading in her fingers from a bowl on the counter and knelt down, feeding it to him and stroking his neck. "Call…out my name…. Call…and I came…" she sang. Her voice was so sweet and beautiful.

I was trying to talk to her but couldn't find the voice inside me. So I just stared, my chest feeling like it was falling. She wore no shoes, or socks. She had a toe ring on, her toenails painted platinum purple, matching her hair. She scratched the top of Jake's head, treating him like a cat. "Dusting off your savior…the life that you had narrated, you were my man…" she closed her eyes and sighed, a lazy, happy smile crossing her, so that she almost started laughing. She scooped Jake into her arms, pressed her face into him, lightly hugging. "I love him, Jake," she said. Then giggled insanely. She sat down on the floor, put Jake in her hap. Jake nibbled her fingers on one hand, she placed the other over her stomach. "I'll tell him soon," she said. "He'll be really happy…I know how much he'd love a son…"

Did this make me want to cry? The drugs were diluting my emotions. I was having trouble deciding how I felt. Was I happy because I could see that she really loved me? Should I smile over that or start bawling? I just wanted to be with her again…

Then I heard a door slam. Her head snapped up, medium length strands of purple falling over her eyes as she looked up in worry, as she stood up, slowly letter her fingers uncoil and her arm fall limply to the side. Silence fell around each of us, she stood completely still, mouth opened a little. I couldn't tell where these images were coming from…in the corner of my eye, yet I could see it very clearly. I was actually quite confused when I tried to figure out where the images came from. I just _saw_ them, didn't know how. I wasn't there in that kitchen with her, where I could love her, where I could protect her from this ominous force. 

Renholder swelled around me as we both heard the footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps. She stepped backward soundlessly, her feet making no noise on the tiled floor. Her eyes darted around the room. The footsteps stopped.

"Kane?" she called out. She sounded all weak and scared and feminine. There was no answer. Jake started walking out of the room, she reached out to grab him but he was already almost at the door into the back hallway, and she bit down on her lip, eyebrows coming together, not running after him. More footsteps came. "Kane…?" she asked again, though it was almost a whisper. Her hands were shaking.

She turned her head towards the doorway, all of a sudden looking right at me. Her eyes were in direct line of mine, except…I wasn't there. It was like a coincidence or something that she was staring right at me, I was just in her way. My heart, wherever it was, started feeling kind of icy. I was confused, I could feel my body but it wasn't there, as if my eyes were just closed. I couldn't see anything except these images of Amber. The music got so loud that I couldn't hear anything except that anymore. It made my stomach churn.

Amber's eyes filled with darkness and worry. 

"Who's there?" I saw her mouth form the words, even though I still couldn't hear her. "Hello?" she said. I wanted to scream to her but couldn't do it. 

The song never ended, never really began, either, just kind of looped around, never breaking. I felt so lost as I stared at her. 

Then…

I don't really know what happened. Everything just got kind of slow. She turned her head, the hair that shifted was in slow motion, her eyes were still going right the hell through me. I was paralyzed watching this, the song surrounded me and lulled me into being mesmerized, everything stopped moving…it was so quiet and still…

There was a loud sound that came with the flash. Like a bang, or a kind of rip. Within the barriers of the sound flashed in front of me a different Amber, still standing there, still looking at me, but not…_her_. It was the Amber I'd seen at her funeral, her hair curled, cheeks blushing with makeup, color drained from her face. For only that flash I saw her eyes, not clearly enough to really understand, just seeing smears and clouds of light blue where they should've been. Then she was back to normal staring at me. I felt like I was shaking, couldn't stand watching this but didn't know what else to do. For an eternity she stared again, eyes cold, beyond me, the fire slowly dying from them. 

Out of nowhere, all I could hear was screaming. Pained screaming, agonizing. Her image flashed again, I saw blood dripping down her face, down into her eyes, down onto her breasts and soaking her shirt so that the color couldn't even be recognized. Fuck fuck fuck I was getting desperate, I wanted to help her so badly, I wanted to be there, I wanted to stop this, but…I couldn't. I just had to stand there and watch, the way I watched my parents burn alive, I was watching this. 

She was really screaming at the top of her lungs, it was killing me. Off in the distance I heard Claudette crying, and Amber started to sob. Things were crashing down onto the floor, mixed in with her cries.

The clean, unharmed Amber never came back to me in image from then on, as she screamed. I felt like crying, I could feel tears on my face, wherever that was, the music faded out so that all I could hear was the brief piano line. Amber stared at me with her bloody eyes…they turned gray, then blue…then gray again…her whole body was turning gray, fucking rotting, decaying right in front of me. I wanted to close my eyes and not look…but I realized that they were already closed.

"Kaaaane," she cried out. "Kane where _are_ you? Don't let this happen to me…our baby, Kane…" she was choking on her own blood, I heard it, but only saw her rotting corpse before me, her eyes sinking in the sockets, lips pulling back to show blackening teeth. I wanted to vomit.

Why did the world work like this? Why were such beautiful creatures ruined this way? Why me? Why the fuck me? Oh my God, I couldn't see anything but the veins that were showing beneath her skin, deepening in color, the hair which thinned and an the pieces of her that were turning to dust. Mold was creeping up in all the little creases that her face had created, shadows slowly growing. It made me so fucking sick, yet there was nothing I could do about it. 

Her eyes flattened out, like dead grapes, shriveling to nothing, leaving black holes in her face. How I missed the color they once bore…

_Hey_…

Amber…

_Hey, man…_

I sat up abruptly when I woke up, feeling the small hand on my own before anything else. Thinking it just _might_ have been her, I got all excited and turned, and saw…blue hair. Glasses. A nose ring. My heart fell as I looked a this girl. She couldn't have been more than maybe seven or eighteen, about five feet tall, standing next to my bed. My throat felt dry, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't talk.

"Hey…" she said softly. "Are you okay? I think you were having a nightmare or something…"

"Thanks," I said to her, not knowing what else I could say. When I closed my eyes, I still saw…those images. I hated it, it actually made me sick, so that after a while I finally got up and staggered into the bathroom. I was there about a half hour, vomiting, then just sitting back on the floor, trying to calm down. My heart was racing, sweat was breaking out all over my face and my neck. Everything was so fucked up.

The girl's blue hair…didn't anger me, necessarily, but made me nervous. Amber just as easily could've had blue hair, rather than purple, and the colors were very similar to each other…it was like a different version of Amber…like…Claudie…

Would Claudette have looked like that? Could I just pretend that this was fifteen years later and that she was all grown up? She was visiting me in the hospital cause she loved me, because I suffered and injury and she cared about me, wanted to spend time with me. Would this place be easier to cope with if I just…pretended that the blue haired chick was my guest instead of Chris's?

I don't know, maybe it would kind of amuse me if nothing else. I was bored, after all. 

I cleaned myself up and went back into the room, laid back down in bed. The girl looked at me, nervously, turned away as soon as I looked back. My hands wouldn't stay still, I was bored, I was trying not to stare at her so lovingly as if she was my daughter,  I knew it would've creeped her out. 

After the sun went down she grabbed up her things to go. I was lying back in bed, my eyes closed but I wasn't sleeping. I kept seeing that gross vision of Amber, I couldn't help it. It was so disgusting…but keeping my eyes open was just exhausting. 

The girl walked to Chris's bed, I was listening to her footsteps. She kissed him, probably on the cheek. I heard her voice, really quietly. She must've thought I was sleeping. "I'll come see you tomorrow, hun. Just relax, get some rest. And be careful, your roommate is really fucking creepy," she said to him. My body felt shocked by the words, it weighed me down inside, a great…embarrassment? Damn, the hospital had really messed everything up, I wasn't sure the word I wanted to use to describe it.

I waited a few minutes after she left, didn't want to make it blatantly obvious to Chris that I'd heard what she'd said. I kept it discreet as I left after she did, went to use the payphone because I absolutely didn't want those nurses hearing anything.

Mark answered his phone, knowing it was me. "What's up?"

My stomach was turning. "Mark…"

"Yeah? What is it, Kane?"

I closed my eyes, saw Amber's rotten eyes holding me in place. I felt like I was going to vomit again. "Can you umm…" my voice fell apart. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Please, I'll do anything you want, Mark. I'll go to therapy, take meds, whatever…just…let me stay with you?"

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"I can't stay here another minute. Mark, I'm begging you…"


	62. Saphrin's Birthday: Part VIII

**Chapter 62**

Mark agreed to let me sign myself out of the hospital. I don't know if they would've let me on my own, they all thought I was unstoppably insane, but now if there was like a consenting seven foot tall intimidating guy standing there telling them to let me sign myself out…

They didn't even try to stop us. It was actually a little bit funny. 

He was really nice about it, and we spent one night in that hotel before going to Texas to his house. He didn't make me go to therapy, just let me stay in the guest room and kick back as he took time off, helped me tend to wounds and all, bought some disposable razors to let me shave. I still don't know if he did that because it was cheap and I wasn't staying long or if he didn't trust me with real razors. Didn't matter very much, really. It was just something I noticed.

A couple days after we got there, I got a call from Saphrin. 

"Kane…" she said. "I have some stuff to tell you."

For some reason this made me nervous, because she didn't seem all bubbly and dying like she usually was when she had good news. But I tried to stay relaxed, I was in one of Mark's living rooms. His house was goddamn huge, and I don't know how he did it but it was really comfy and warm for a place where only one guy lived. I leaned back in one of the arm chairs, my burned arm still not completely mobile as I held the phone in my left hand. The wounds on my left arm were mostly healed, I'd had the stitches taken out but the skin was still red where the cuts were, still very delicate. "Shoot," I told her.

I heard her sigh through the phone. "Listen…this isn't like…_bad_ news or anything, I just don't know how to tell you or how you'll take it or anything. Cause of…what happened…"

My eyes closed. "Just tell me," my heart pounded.

"Umm…well…" she paused. Sighed again. "Kane, I'm pregnant," neither of us said anything. "I just wasn't sure how to tell you…I don't know how that makes you feel or whatever…" 

I actually chuckled a little. Not because it was funny, not because I was happy. Just  because I thought it was interesting how alike we were, I think we both forgot it sometimes. She didn't have to say anything, she knew exactly how I would feel. And that made my eyes tear a little. There was an extended pause, I didn't know what to say, I was waiting for her to say something, she was probably in the same situation.

Finally she said: "Alright, well…I'm not gonna be going back to work with Raven, so I just wanted to tell you. Call me back sometime, a'ight?"

"No…Saphrin…" I groaned. "You know how I feel, right? I know you do."

"Yeah…"

"You knew I wouldn't know what to say," again she said yeah. "So umm…how far along are you?"

"Not that far…it's actually really really early," she let out a dry laugh. "I didn't even know, I hope the little kid's okay in there. Raven just had this feeling so wanted me to go see a doctor or whatever…"

We were both thinking the same thing, I knew her too well. I really lightly traced the scars on my arm with the opposite hand, cradling the phone on my shoulder. "So…it'll be born in February?"

"Yeah…" she whispered. I bit my lip, held everything back, swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"Well ah…" I choked on the words, breathed deeply to make my voice work. "I'm really happy for you…"

"I figured you would be. I just…it was hard to tell you, you know?"

"It's okay, I understand," I told her. It was true. "Keep me updated," I added, for good measure. I did care, it was just that…I don't know. I was too upset, too depressed to want to have anything to do with it. I was happy for her, but it just made me feel so hollow. My daughter was gone, my unborn son was never gonna have a life…but this mantra was getting worn out, wasn't it? The headache rose as I tried not to get upset over it. 

Another pause. 

"So…how you feeling?" she asked me. I rubbed my temples.

"A lot better, actually," I admitted. "It's uhh…" my voice was catching in my throat again. "It's getting a lot…easier. Really."

"That's great," she sounded really sincere, but that she was trying not to cry. God…we were so perfect for each other. It was strange. We were the same. "Is Mark treating you okay?"

I laughed a little. "Yeah, he's been really nice…"

"How are your arms?"

"Stitches are out," I told her, and looked down at them. "The burns aren't healed but they're doing okay…"

"Oh, that's cool…" she fell quiet. We both did. It was so awkward. 

"I'm sorry," I said to her finally. I closed my eyes again, still thought about that horrible dream that I'd had. "I'm really sorry that I put you through all this…I mean…there's nothing I can do about it now, everything wasn't my fault, but I should've been there for you instead of just ruining myself over it…and I just wanted you to know that I apologize."

"Don't."

"I mean it, though. Really."

"Well then I have to apologize, too. I think we both know that if I'd been nicer to you and if I'd done something about how depressed you were, none of that shit would've happened…"

"Yeah…I guess we're even then."

"Okay…well I'm gonna let you go, Kane…"

Tears. I felt like I was going to choke. "Wait…"

"Hmm?"

"Could you, uh…will you stay on the phone for a while? I need someone to talk to."

After that night we made it kind of a ritual. Instead of going to therapy, I just talked to Saphrin for an hour or two twice a week. She'd call, tell me how she was feeling, I'd tell her how my arms were doing…then we'd just…_talk_. In truth, it was better for me than anything else could've been, better than actual therapy, than meds, our talks had more to offer than any hospital I could ever go to…

We talked about many things. Sometimes we cried, sometimes we laughed. Usually it was both, though. We'd talk about her mom, about Amber, about politics, wrestling, Raven…it was pretty random. Then…she brought up Jake. It was the fourth week I'd been at Mark's house, he was getting ready to go back on the road and was letting me use his house. I was on my bed, in the room in Mark's house that I'd been staying in, lying down. My right arm was mostly okay, I was holding the phone with it that night. We were laughing about something, talking about when we first met and when Amber and I had asked her and Raven to watch Claudette and Jake. After laughing over it for a moment I just fell silent, asking her a question that I'd been avoiding since the hospital, that I hadn't asked anyone.

"Where's Jake?" I asked her. Her laughing came to a halt and she didn't say anything. I rubbed my eyes. "I mean…I've kind of been ignoring the thought of him since the hospital, I've been kind of afraid to ask, no one ever told me what happened to him. I remember…when I first woke up I used the word 'duckie' and you got all upset…" I sighed. "He's dead, isn't he?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, he's dead, Kane…I'm really sorry, I thought you knew…"

"Where is he, though?"

"Raven buried him in our backyard. Is that okay?" 

I found it in myself to laugh. "Well, what would happen if it wasn't? Exhumation of the duck? I don't think so…besides, it's probably better this way. He was afraid of me when Amber wasn't around. It made me feel bad…" I let the rising pain in my chest just flow, and dissipate. "And he really liked you, I think he wouldn't mind being buried in your backyard."

"Yeah, I thought it was sweet, it was all Raven's idea, he didn't even tell me…funny, since he was so deathly afraid of the poor duckie for the longest time…"

"I know…" I brought myself to laugh a little bit. "Hey…remember that time that you like…trained Jake? And harassed Raven with it? God…that was funny…"

She started giggling. "Yeah, those were good times…man. I really miss that, we had a lot of fun on the road, you know?"

"Yes, I know," I was all sarcastic, it made me feel bad, so I tried to ignore that I'd just said that. "Fuck, Saph. I was really happy, you know? I'd never really been happy before. When we were all friends, I was _really happy_."

"Kane, we're still friends."

"Yeah, yeah, but like…Amber was there. And that was when I wasn't talking to Mark so we had like a little quatrain thing going on and we had a lot of a fucking fun. I miss it. I miss them, you know?"

"Me too." We both got really quiet. 

"You're birthday is coming up," I pointed out, thinking about it. 

"In a couple days."

I groaned. "Fuck, I completely forgot until just now. I'm sorry. You want anything? I can mail something if you want…"

Instead of answering me she brought something else up. "Kane…you remember when you used to read to Claudie? We'd be on the road and we'd all hang out in the hotel, and me, Raven, and Amber would be like watching TV or something, and you'd be over on the side of the room reading the Vampire Chronicles to Claudie. Remember?"

"Of course I remember," it made my heart sore to think about it.

"How far did you get?" she asked. I laughed.

"I got up to _Merrick_. Then…it was all boring and I didn't finish it. Why?"

She was biting her lip. I couldn't see her, since we were on the phone, but I knew her, and she was pausing, and I knew she was biting her lip in thought. I could see it in my head. "You don't have to do this directly for my birthday, if you wanna wait for your arms to heal a little more you can wait a few weeks…but for my birthday, Kane, can you…go read to Claudette?"

I thought my heart would stop. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious. I just…I want you to go to the cemetery and read to her. And _talk_ to her. _And_ Amber. I think you should go talk to them, they need to know you still love them."

"Saphrin, I tried to kill myself because I missed them, I think they know that I love them," I said to her. I couldn't believe she was asking me. It made sense, yeah…but I wasn't ready for it. It was like when Amber wanted me to take my mask off, and I was being a wimp about it. It didn't want to have that conflict, just now I didn't want to have to go deal with all the pain of being at their graves.

"No, but…you gotta respect the dead, man. You don't know _where_ the fuck they are, do you? I don't either, and it bothers me as much as it probably bothers you. But you need to talk to them. They can be in Shangri-La or something, or in Hell, if they even exist, you never know. They could be in your old house, they could be bound to the cemetery, they could just be completely gone…how are you gonna know? You can't! But if you go talk to them…wherever you are, I think it'll reach them…"

"Exactly, I can talk to them right now and they have a chance of hearing," I was arguing with her. I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment and shouted "AMBER I LOVE YOU!"

When I put the phone back to my ear she sounded impatient with me, as she should've been. I was giving her a hard time, really. "Kane…" she scolded. "I'm not saying this just to be superstitious, but I think it would do you a lot of good. Have you even been there since the funeral?" 

I hated her sometimes for being able to read me. "No…" I whispered.

"My point exactly. You need to heal, man! It would do you good. Look, I'll come with you if you want…but please? For me will you go? For Saphrin's birthday!?"

I laughed. She could get so childish and funny, speaking of her birthday like that. "Alright, alright…"

Her tone got more serious. "Do you need me to come?"

For a while I didn't answer, and she as patient again, giving me time. "Yeah. Would you?"

"Silly bastard, of course I would. For you? I'd do just about anything," she told me. This made me smile, made me warm. 

"So when do you want to go?"

"When are you gonna be ready?"

I looked at my arms again. The cuts were healed, just sore, could probably reopen if I was straining myself, but I wasn't. The burns still hurt, but they were healing properly. I could wear sleeves over them by now, in public…I would be okay. I swallowed back the fear that was getting in my head. "You wanna go tomorrow?"

"Really?"

"Just answer before I change my mind."

"Sure, Kane!" she sounded really happy. The more I thought about Saphrin, and less about the cemetery, the easier it got on me. I held the phone on my shoulder, wrapped my arms around my stomach. I wasn't on the meds I'd been in the hospital or anything, but still…maybe because I was healing from what happened I was just confused. I was used to feeling everything so sharply that healing, not having as much of an opinion on it, felt strange to me. I was getting sad thinking about Amber, at the same time I was starting to accept the fact that she was gone. It screwed everything up. 

"Well then we'll go. You wanna stay at the apartment or find a hotel?"

"We can stay at the apartment," she told me. I nodded to myself.

"Cool then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. You wanna meet me there?" she said yeah, we arranged some times, and then we were off the phone. The room surrounded me with silence, my heart was pounding just thinking about it.

When the silence got to me too much I finally just got up and walked out into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. Mark appeared there a few seconds later, getting one himself and sitting down at the table with me.  We didn't talk to each other for a while, didn't even look at each other, just sat down and drank. I wasn't drinking to get drunk or anything, just felt really thirsty, one beer wasn't even going to effect me. I didn't have a high tolerance or anything like Mark did, but being seven feet tall, by default, meant that one beer wasn't going to do anything to me. 

"I'm going to Indianapolis," I said after a while. "Tomorrow."

I looked up at Mark, his eyes were round, that emerald color burning into me. "Why?"

"Saphrin's birthday. She's gonna come, too, we're gonna go to the cemetery and all…"

"Can you do it? Will you be okay?" he looked really concerned for me. I watched one of his hands curl into a nervous fist on the table. 

I laughed to break the tension. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Saphrin will be there, too. It'll be good."

"You're sure?" he smiled at my laughter. I nodded. "I'm heading to New York for tomorrow, you wanna ride with me? I can jack the ticket around and see if I can change at Indianapolis."

"No, you don't have to do that," I sipped the beer. "I'll be okay, really."

After staring for a moment he just laughed, so did I. Not something that was funny, not laughing _at_ me or anything…just happiness. I felt it in myself, too, radiating through the pieces of my broken heart. 


	63. Merrick

**Chapter 63**

Saphrin met me at the apartment, she got there after me so I was already inside and trying to clean everything up since I'd left it such a mess. At first when I got there my hands had been shaking, but after I paced around a little and opened the windows to get some fresh air I felt a lot better. I stayed mostly in the living room, watched TV for a little while…it took me a while to work up the nerve to go into the bedroom to change my clothes. The long sleeves that I'd been wearing had been irritating my arms, so I changed into a sleeveless shirt, one of the ones I used to wear when I worked out.

It was loose on me.

I made a promise to myself that I would start working out again after the wounds healed more, because this shit was really humiliating to me. 

While I was in there I just looked around. The room was a mess, Amber's things were relatively untouched but everything else was a mess. I'd lived there for three months in a haze, I couldn't remember it really, other than one or two generic days that would repeat themselves. I knew that I hadn't really been alive in those times, I just kind of…existed. 

The knock on the door saved me, and I rushed to open it. Saphrin came in with her bags and everything, gave me a hug and then stared at my arm for a while, not saying anything. I broke the silence by asking if she wanted to help me clean up the apartment, and she was really enthusiastic about it, cleaning everything and then making lunch with what food was still good in the house (AKA Ramen noodles and frozen Elios). It was pretty gross, which enabled us to laugh at ourselves. 

After we had most of the place cleaned up she asked if I wanted to go just then, or should we give it a day or two. I told her that we might as well get it over with, so I grabbed the book from the shelf and then went in Claudette's room, finding some random small toys, ones that could fit in my hand. I put them in a bag and we left.

Saphrin's plan was that she wanted to give me time alone with them, so said she'd drop me off and then borrow the car and do some grocery shopping, then come back. I said that was fine, it was, really. I didn't care that much anyway, I was too nervous to argue with her. So we did that. I drove the car there, and she stood with me for a second in the parking lot at one end of the church, telling me that everything would be fine, that she'd be back in a little while, give or take forty minutes. I felt like I was going to vomit, I was so nervous. She got back into my car and drove off and I stayed there until I couldn't see her anymore.

I clutched the bag to my chest as I walked up into the cemetery, breathing deeply, hugging myself. I'd put on a sweatshirt once we'd left the house. It wasn't chilly or anything, being that it was June, but I felt cold. And covering my arms was like wearing a mask, to me. All those years that I'd worn a mask on my face, I'd done it because I felt better about being in public. Now my face went uncovered, by hiding my arms made it easier. 

Even though I was trying to stall as I walked, I ended up at the site quicker than I'd intended. The stone was there now, I hadn't seen it, and taking one look at it made my heart hurt.

AMBER MUSICK CALLAWAY. CLAUDETTE PEARL CALLAWAY. It didn't mention Armand, and rather than an epitaph had a song lyric from that song Away by Bella Morte. I'd listened to it that night…and Amber had loved the song. I can't remember who suggested it be on the stone but I didn't object really. In letters below their names and the dates stating the span of their lives, it said: _Our time lives on in a land within _so_ our eyes my find smiles from our distant days and at night our stars burn as long as before._ I just…wanted to hold her.

The stone was kind of dusty, dirt riding up the side from the ground. I don't think anyone had come to see it really. We hadn't said where she'd be buried, I doubted that any wrestling fans had come to see it, and I think Mike just wanted to focus on his job and forget that everything had happened. 

She would've been thirty that year. 

Instead of freaking out and sobbing, I tried to control myself, calmly sitting down on the grass, rubbing dirt off the headstone with my hand and trying to clean it up a little. I reached in the bag and took out the toys I'd brought. A little plastic toy of Simba from The Lion King, a small rubber duck, and angel with glittery wings. The angel was more décor than a toy, it had been on a shelf in her room. I felt a little nervous as I rested the toys down on the little shelf at the bottom of the stone, that the base made, beneath the line of lyrics. For some reason I felt strange leaving her things here, because part of me knew that they'd be gone next time I came…but what was I going to do with them? They were hers, I didn't have a use for them.

The tears came and went, would burn in my eyes for a  while until I made them go away. I didn't talk to them, to the grave. I couldn't bring myself to, I didn't know if it would even mean anything if I did. But finally I pulled the book out, opened to the worn little bookmark that I'd been using the whole time I'd read to Claudette. It left off on page seventy-one, and that's where I started reading, my voice cracking now and then trying not to cry. 

Certain parts stick out in my memory. For one, Louis talking about daguerreotypes. "_'Think of mirrors,' he said, 'to which everyone is accustomed. Think of the reflection suddenly frozen forever. That is how it was. Except the color was gone from it, utterly gone, and there lay the horror, if there was one; but you see, no one thought it was so remarkable, not while it was such a miracle._'" 

In the back of my mind I was thinking of photo albums, now I felt strangely compelled to go dig up some old pictures of Amber and Claudette, even of my mother, maybe me and Mark when we were really little. I'd ask Saph if she wanted to with me when she came back. 

A couple pages later I was convinced that this was some horrible act of fate that I needed to read this part, like nature deliberately gave me this part because it new how upset I would get.

_He looked at me._

_I stood up to receive the picture, and he placed it in my hands most carefully, as though it were about to shatter of its own accord._

_I was dumbfounded. How small and innocent she seemed, this irresistible child of fair locks and chubby cheeks, of darkened Cupid's bow lips and white lace. Her eyes veritably blazed from the shadowy glass as I looked at her. And there came back that very suspicion of years ago, that I'd suffered so strongly with Merrick's pictures, that the image was gazing at me._

_I must have made some small sound. I don't know. I shut the little case. I even worked the tiny gold clasp into the lock._

_"Wasn't she beautiful?" he asked. "Tell me. It's past a matter of opinion, isn't it? She was beautiful. One cannot deny that simple fact."_

Calmly I closed the book, having read only two pages, though I used to read ten to her at a time. But I couldn't do it anymore. The pain was rising in my chest, throbbing in my head, my arms were sore…I couldn't do it. I lowered my head, rubbed my eyes. They were gone. They were_ gone_. I knew it, of course I did, but the realization never ceased to shock me. When I thought about it…really thought about it…it just hit me. I started to feel sick, like I would start to cry, felt incredibly cold. I started to shiver, and hugged myself. The tears came after that, soft, not sobbing or anything but just crying. I couldn't feel the pain of why I was crying anymore, it wasn't like a hammer hitting me in the head telling me that they were gone…it was like I was supposed to cry, I couldn't help it. 

I wasn't paying attention to anything else, just held myself, let my arms be sore, let my hair fall all around my face as I leaned my head against the stone. Was this the only way I could be with her? Was leaving toys there the closest thing I could have to playing with my children? Sure, everything was getting easier, but still…it was so fucking hard. 

"I miss you," I mumbled. Chills ran up my spine, up on my neck. I tugged at my hair, remembering how Amber would pull on the curls. I had those curls…ones where you would pull on them and they'd pop right back into place. She had loved them.

How long this went on I'm not sure, I can't say that I was looking at the clock or anything, but Saphrin's voice startled me when she finally came. I wasn't paying attention, hadn't heard her approaching or anything.

"Kane?" she called to me. I was crying silently, and stopped, then turned around to look at her. She was standing there holding flowers. I didn't know what to say to her as her eyebrows shot up in concern, as she put the flowers down and fell to her knees, wrapping me in a hug. It felt really good to be held like that, to have someone to cry on. I leaned my head on her shoulder and let myself weep. And she let me do it, not saying a thing as I carried on.

"You okay?" she asked after a while. I pulled away from her to see that she'd been crying, too. 

"Yeah, as okay as I can be…" I told her. She gave me a smile, kissed me on the cheek, then grabbed the flowers. She had a bouquet of red roses, which she handed to me, and then a tray of yellow tulips. She put on a pair of gardening gloves and dug the holes with her hands, putting the bulbs in and securing the dirt around them. I squeezed the roses, holding them at my chest, leaning my head sideways so that the petals brushed against my cheek. They smelled nice, as roses smell…I started crying again.

Saphrin took off her gloves and put her hand on my shoulder, without words. There were no words, I knew. Nothing would've made me feel better just then. She gave me time, taking the bag that I'd brought the toys in and the plastic tray from the tulips and the gloves that she knew she'd never wear again and walking down the hill to a trash can, leaving me alone for a moment. I turned my head, looked over past where she was standing, looking at me, waiting, to where Lydia was buried. Amber's mother. Three generations of women from her family buried here. I couldn't get sad over it though, it was like they were together. 

Finally I turned back to the grave, to the newly planted yellow tulips and the toys, to the names there that made me so fond and miserable. I sighed as I placed the roses down, not breaking my eyes away from her name.

"I love you," I said out loud. There was a tree near the grave, a huge one that left me in the shade. I looked up at it, at the broad branches and wondered if Claudette would've liked tree climbing when she was older. I pictured her climbing around up there, imagined her having fun. It made me laugh a little. 

There was another grave right nearby, under the tree. The name on it said ROMAN and the rest of it was too worn down and old to be read. It was obvious that no one had visited it in a long time, it was worn and covered in leaves and bird shit. There was some person that had died a long time ago, and no one remembered, that no one cared about.

As far as I was concerned, Amber was very alive as long as I could remember her. If I didn't forget about her, and I don't know how I could've, and if I kept visiting her grave, and talking to her, and bringing her flowers…she wasn't really dead was she? She was still active in my heart, in my mind, in my life…and when I thought about it, she'd had fans from wrestling and all…right?

Even if I would never touch her, hold her, have a mutual conversation with her…even if her body was rotting in the ground the nightmare I'd had, if she didn't have pulse and I would never really see her again…she was still alive. She would always be alive to me.

I stood up and turned to Saphrin, nodded to her and started walking down the hill, then to the car. She'd gotten enough groceries for the two of us for the next few days and made a real dinner for us back at the apartment while I took a shower. It meant the world to me. 

After dinner she had a short phone conversation with Raven, then handed me the phone to talk to Mark, since they were on the road together. Once that was done with we just sat in the living room, in silence, not sure what to do. Finally she said: "You wanna watch some wrestling?"

_No, I don't_, was what I was thinking, but I said yes. I don't know why I did, I just had a feeling it was the right thing to do, I trusted Saphrin and knew she wouldn't do that to upset me or annoy me. So I pointed to the cabinet under the television and leaned back in the couch, staring at the ceiling. It had been a rough day, but I had gotten through it. Saphrin was filling me with this energy…that I could get through anything. I loved her for that. 

She picked out a tape and put it on, then sat down in the arm chair that was next to the couch, picking up a remote and hitting play.

Amber's debut.

I knew the tape when I saw it, when I saw the match right at the beginning of the show. I had watched it a lot…when she was alive. Sometimes when we were at the apartment (where we kept the wrestling tapes) I would wake up in the middle of the night and watch the tape. I don't think she ever knew. Since she'd died I hadn't looked at any of the tapes, hadn't even wanted to acknowledge them. But now…now…

It didn't bother me so much. I actually wondered why I'd never watched them.

We didn't skip around on the tape and didn't say anything, just put it on and started watching. This had been before Raven and Saph had gotten contracts, only days after I'd met Amber. Saphrin didn't say anything that wasn't expected, laughed at all the funny parts, commented on the spectacular moves. About an hour into the tape was when Mark came out, said a few things to taunt me, then I came out.

Watching the tape made me miss wrestling, watching the pyro and hearing the music and seeing the costume…I wonder what happened to it…the people at the hospital had probably thrown it out or something, had probably ruined it even before that worse than I had by cutting it here and there and everywhere to get it off of me. 

Mark and I wrestled…I missed it so much. And then he hit me with a chair. I remember how much that had hurt. I knocked out on the ground, and while Mark was signaling to the crowd and being a dick, Amber jumped over the barricade and got into the ring, kneeling over me and putting her hands on my chest. 

I watched this feeling kind of detached, trying to see it from an outside view, trying not to get emotional over it. She looked great, she really did. Like what Louis said, I don't think I was being biased, and I don't think it was an opinion. She was beautiful. It was a fact.

Mark got back into the ring, picked her up by the hair. It reminded me of some slasher B-movie, the look on her face, the way she started screaming. It only took me a second to get up, walking towards Mark before he shoved her down onto the mat. After fighting him for a second longer I picked Amber up and walked up the ramp.

I'd watched the tape so many times that I'd memorized the words that J.R. and King were screaming, asking who she was, how it was so strange that I was showing affection…then about thirty seconds of King ranting about "puppies". I rolled my eyes, me and Saphrin actually both laughed. 

J.R. was acting like such an imbecile. I hated when he did that, even to that day when I watched the tape I hated having to hear his voice rant about me. He blew the character so out of proportion, it made me kind of angry.

Of course I ignored this, the tape was three years old and there was nothing I could do about it. Instead I sat back, watched the backstage cut after the commercial break, me throwing a fit and destroying a locker room. When all of that was over with I just looked up at Saph. She turned her head to me.

"You okay?" she asked for about the three thousandth time that day. I smiled.

"Yeah…" I looked away, looked at the TV to see Steve Austin cutting a promo, then turned back to Saphrin, trying to word it all. I was going to give her a little speech, but as soon as I met her eyes again, all I could say was: "Thanks."

She leaned over the small space between the couch and the chair to pat my shoulder. "No problem, duck."

I stood up, told her that I wanted sleep, told her that if she wanted she could sleep in my bedroom and I'd take the couch, but she insisted that I go use my bed, that she would use Claudette's if it was okay, and I told her it was fine. I went to the bedroom, laid down, listened to her watching television for a little while before going in to Claudette's room. She was listening to music, I could hear that it was Insane Clown Posse. This really sweet song called Pass Me By was playing, I'd heard it before, I liked it. It made me think of that Roman person.

Roman…the name burned my mind.

When I thought of it, I could smell flowers. I remembered that there had been a wilted lilac bush around the base of the tree, dead petals on the top of the headstone. I could smell them from Amber's grave.

I thought that was funny, kind of confusing, since they were out of season.


	64. Candy Land

**Chapter 64**

Saphrin stayed with me for her birthday, Raven came over too, with Evan since she'd asked him to take care of him so that she and I could have some time together. He came with Evan and Sugarbear to have her birthday, and he baked a cake for her in my kitchen, and brought with him all kinds of presents. Mark mailed a present to their house, said he wanted to give the three of us some time together. It was kind of like the old times, when we'd first met…minus Amber. But I was feeling better about everything so it wasn't really horrible. 

They stayed in town for another couple of days, at Mike's hotel. I hadn't been in on it at the time but I see now they were doing that to help me, to kind of ease me into living alone again. 

For those few days, they spent nearly all their time at the apartment, at first just hanging out, doing normal things, watching TV, having meals together…at one point Raven discovered the closet full of board games and pulled a few out. They knew it would make me upset, so Raven made sure that a game of Candy Land commenced immediately, not giving me _time_ to freak out. It made me love Raven so much, him doing this, forcing to stop mourning for a moment to be happy.

It also opened me up to a fair level of amusement, seeing in Raven a love for Candy Land that I'd never seen before. Judging by Saphrin's reaction to how passionate he got over it, I knew she'd witnessed this phenomenon before. She laughed all delightfully over it, all happy and endearing…it made me a little jealous, honestly, but I allowed it to pass. Raven was screaming, cursing when he had to go back, crying out in joy at anything good that happened to him. We were all sitting around the rectangle coffee table, Raven flat on the floor with his legs stretched beneath it. 

Saphrin was sitting behind him on the couch, I was sitting in the arm chair. We were just…enjoying ourselves. Without Amber. It would take a while to get used to but it wasn't impossible. I came to realized that enjoying myself without her was not betraying her memory. She'd probably want it that way.

That night they didn't leave till way later. The day after that they bought dinner for me at a restaurant and allowed me to drop them off at the hotel, and then let me go home by myself. After five days of gradually leaving me alone I felt better.

That was when problems faced me again. It was then, when I had the apartment to myself, when I was living alone and had to keep the place in order, when I was watching the Food Channel to try to learn how to cook for myself, that I was struck with reality.

He was still out there.

_He_, because after some talk with James and my own logic we both figured the perpetrator was male, purely from the strength involved. He said it was highly, _highly_ unlikely that it was a woman, due to human nature. Factored into that was the part where Amber had been a professional wrestler, she would've been able to defend herself against another woman, unless it had been some kind of martial artist or body builder or something. And chances of that were very slim. It was possible that it may have been another one of WWF's Divas, but they'd all been spoken with. The idea left that it had been a man was because of the force, and the fact that no weapons were used, just a hand-to-hand fight, save for the one shot of the bow gun which had been in her defense.

Thinking of all of that made my head spin. There had to be something. Something. _Something_.

Some.

Thing.

That was missing. Just one little detail, one clue to what had happened that night, something that I was overlooking that would've solved the whole fucking problem. It wasn't just a hunch I had, it was the damn truth. There **WAS** something I was missing, because otherwise things would've been different.

For this reason, the night that Raven and Saph left, I walked into the foyer, dusted and wiped down some of the equipment, and began working out.

In the beginning I did a lot of cardio and working on my legs, I wasn't sure if my arms were ready for that strain yet. The healing progress was doing wonderfully though.

Everything was getting better, living on my own was easy now, I didn't need to be babysat. A few times  a week I talked to Saphrin on the phone, between those intervals got calls from Mark. Raven called now and then, said hi if Mark was calling me from the arena and he was around. I was getting…almost happy? And I wasn't having nightmares.

July passed. Then August. By October I felt like I was physically back to where I had been. I went to go see Amber again then, taking a lot to work up the courage to go to the cemetery. I brought flowers with me, and some more toys for Claudette. Again I put the toys on the little shelf made by the base of the stone, laid the flowers on the ground in front of it. I just sat there for a while, didn't say anything, let a couple of hours pass before I finally started telling her all these things that had been building up for the past eight months.

"I miss you," I started telling her. I felt kind of silly talking to her…it helped that no one was around, and that I kept thinking of Saphrin and how she told me that there was a chance Amber would be hearing me. I was crying a little as I spoke to her. "I love you, you know I do…but I miss you so much…

"It's been around eight months since…well, you know. Eight months is a long time, you know. And you know the sad part, Amber? I only started getting better from it a couple of months ago. I mean…Jesus, I don't think it'll ever be okay on me, but that was just when I _started_ getting better. It's pathetic in a way, but I understand it. I'm not mad at myself for taking that long to just crack a smile, I miss you. I don't even know how I'm alive without you, life without doesn't make any sense. I mean…hell, I don't know how much you know, wherever you are, if you've been keeping an eye on all of us or anything…but you know I tried to kill myself? You remember what I told you, right? That thing about the fire? I don't know…I must've been thinking about it, I was really out of it. I cut my arm, and then…I reached into a fire, I thought I would be able to bring you back. I didn't, instead I just ended up burning on the floor. I may have died if Mark didn't help me…also I had this nightmare, some woman who looked like you was there…I don't know what that was about…

"You know Saphrin's pregnant? She told me right when I got out the hospital. I wasn't sure how to feel about it at first, I mean I was happy for her and all, but I mean…I don't know. I was kind of jealous, you understand that? I know about our son. Would you have named him Armand? That's what I've been calling him, anyway. I figured, since you liked Armand and all, and it was a nice name, you'd name him that. So whenever I'm thinking about you, I think of you and Claudette and Armand."

I paused for a moment, bit back a sob that was threatening to crumble me. "Why did you have to do this?" The tears poured down over my cheeks. I was laying down, stretched out over the grave, not looking at the headstone but up into the clouds. It looked like it was gong to rain but I wasn't one to care at the moment. "I'm so sorry…I should've been home. I should've protected you, that was my job as your husband, as your lover, as your friend…it's my fault, you know? I mean…I'm not the one who killed you or anything, but I feel like it's just as equally my fault that I couldn't have been there. None of this would've happened…

"Are you mad at me for that? I think about it sometimes…I'm mad enough at myself over it, I just wonder if you are, too. If you are, I guess all I can offer to you is that I am really really sorry for everything, you just need to know. I think it was your fault, too, though…"

Could she even hear me? Was I wasn't my time? I asked myself these questions as the anger of it started to set in. "Do you miss me?" I demanded. "Wherever you are, have you really gone to a 'better place', or are you as miserable as I am?" I was crying, shit. I stood up, wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my jacket. I could smell that lilac bush, still, and turned to it. It was only leaves, there were no flowers. Roman stared at me from beneath all its decay. At full height I looked down at the two foot stone, seething. "Why did you fucking leave me?" I shouted. I put my hand up to my forehead, combed my fingers through my hair. My hand curled into a fist and pulled my hair, my other arm was fidgeting as I turned away and started to walk to the lilac bush, to Roman's grave, started to kick the shit out of the tree and tear the bush apart just cause I had to get it out of me. 

"What the FUCK did I do to deserve this, Amber?" I screamed up at the sky. The clouds darkened, the air had that coldness to it and that smell that comes right before it rains. I kicked Roman's headstone, sending handfuls of dried leaves flying off of it. I was sobbing and didn't even realize it. 

As it started to rain I fell down on the ground, collapsed beneath the tree, felt drunk by the smell of lilac. I curled up in a ball beneath the tree, hugging myself, crying, hoping to a God that I wasn't sure existed that no one else was going to be around to witness this descent. It was raining all over me, and getting dark out, but I didn't do anything about it. After a while I crawled back over to Amber's grave, disheartened to see the toys getting ruined by the rain water. 

I held my stomach, on my knees a few feet away from the headstone, with one hand reaching out to graze it with my knuckles. The back of my hand touched it…it was just as cold as her corpse had been. Choking back a sob I pulled my hand away, hugged myself more, fell down onto the ground right above where she was buried.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. 

**AN:/** Heeeey duckies… kinda short chapter, but I'll make up for it! XD There'll probably be another chapter up like tomorrow or something. I'm almost done with the story, I'll probably be working on it really diligently as I have this past week until it's over, soooo yeah. =D Don't be discouraged by the short chapter. :)


	65. Hot Chocolate

**Chapter 65**

The second I got home I called Saphrin, crying still when she answered the phone. She sounded sleepy, even though it wasn't really late. She'd probably just been napping or something.

"Hello?" she yawned. Hearing her voice filled me with relief, but only made me cry more. Saphrin- my therapist. Saphrin- my best friend. She was so far away; I felt like a child. "Oh my God," she said when she heard me. "Kane? Oh my God.  What's wrong?"

Her alarm made me cry harder. I fell down onto the couch in the living room, my arm over my eyes, trying to talk. "Saphrin," I whimpered. 

"Kane? Kane, what happened?"

"Saphrin," I said again. She was talking really fast, trying to consol me, trying to get me to tell her what the hell was wrong. I couldn't talk, too strangled by desolation to talk, to do anything but mumble her name over and over. Finally, after probably scaring the hell out of her, I managed:

"I don't want to be alone…"

I meant it in more ways than one. Saphrin took the most obvious meaning, which was sincere on my part. 

"Come to New Jersey," she told me. "Kane, just calm down, clean yourself up, and get to the airport. Please. You can stay here if you want to, just come," she begged. I was nodding my head but didn't say anything for another few minutes. She asked if I would be okay until I got there- that was the extent of our conversation. I called a taxi minutes after, then went in the bathroom to splash water on my face, trying to calm down. I packed a bag, just filled it with some clothes, grabbed my wallet and then went downstairs to wait. The rain had gotten harder, was pouring and beating against the windows. I had gotten wet in the cemetery, my hair had not dried yet, but it was nothing compared to this downpour. 

There was a courtyard in front of the building, three separate sections of the apartments, with three separate entranceways. They were all connected in the basement, but from the ground were only the three entrances to the U shaped building. Each entrance had its own walkway, they intersected in the middle to form a little triangle patch of land. In that was the tree.

It was a pine tree, Mike told me it had been planted the same year Amber was born- 1973, the year they'd opened the building. It was grown now, not huge, but not the sapling it must've been back then.

"I don't want to be alone…" it was more than the message Saphrin had perceived. I didn't want to be alone then, true…but I didn't want to be alone- period. I feared living without Amber, I felt alone without her and didn't like being that way. I didn't want to be alone, especially not then, after I knew what it was like to have someone. Had it been a few years ago when I was always miserable, that would've been completely different. But now…I'd known what it was like to love someone, to have a family, to _live_. 

The taxi got there about a half hour later, when I was sitting on the stairs. Seeing it pull up had kind of startled me. I got out to the cab quickly, running across the courtyard to keep from getting too wet. I mostly ignored the driver, he extended me the same regard, would narrow his eyes at me in the rearview mirror now and then but that was it. My mind was still on the cemetery when I got the airport, still thinking about Amber while I was going through security and buying a ticket and even on the plane. 

Riding the plane during the storm made me nervous, it usually did. I hated that. Once we were up in the air I was watching the storm from the other side of the clouds, seeing lightening in a little tangle off in the distance, getting smaller and smaller. We landed in New Jersey around ten at night, I called a cab when we were on the ground to bring me to Saph's. The whole ride there was a blur.

Immediately when I arrived she took me inside, threw her arms around me and hugged me and I started to cry again. We sat down on the couch, she left me there for a moment and went into the kitchen, coming back with a mug of hot chocolate. She rubbed my shoulder as she handed it to me. 

"I made this a few minutes ago, just for you," she said. My hands shook as I took it from her, the mug dwarfed in my hands. My eyes hurt, the wounds on my arms that had since mostly healed started to sting again. Now and then, when I thought about what happened, everything would just be sore. Just then they were doing that, as Saphrin gripped the bicep on my unscarred arm, as I tried to drink the chocolate that she'd given me.

I didn't say anything, just breathed, sipped the chocolate. It had this severe calming effect, warm, spreading through my stomach, up into my chest and then my arms. I drank about half of it, then lowered my hands into my lap, looking down and away from her. I could still feel her hand on my, rubbing my shoulder now.

"How did you know this would work?" I asked quietly. Saphrin sighed.

"Ohhh, Kane," she took her hand off me and leaned down, leaned her head against me. God, she was smart. Perhaps my knowledge of what she was doing was taking away from the subliminal comfort, but I was able to calm down for her. She was leaning against me, knew that the human contact itself would make me feel better. "You're so silly. Don't you know that hot chocolate is the best medicine? Ever?"

I laughed a little, stared down into the shades of brown that swirled around in the mug. "Now I do."

She didn't ask about what happened, prompting me not to talk about it. I drank the rest of it, rubbed my eyes on my shirtsleeve. She laughed a little, too, and touched my arm again. 

"You're all ripped again," she observed softly.

"Yeah, I got tired of not fitting in any of my clothes…passes time, too. It's probably not that healthy for someone like me to be bored, you know?" I tried to crack a smile, tried to make it kind of a joke, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh. Saphrin didn't, either, but when I looked up to see her I saw this…light. In her eyes. The smile on her face flickered like a dying florescent bulb, twitching for its life.

"Your arms were always one of your best features," she said to me. Something tightened in my stomach, looking down at the scar tissue over my right hand, creeping up around my wrist, crawling up on my fingers. The doctors said I was lucky that I hadn't been degloved. Thinking about that made me, _me_, squeamish. So now one of my best features, as she called it, was ruined. Perfect.

"_'One of'?"_ I asked her. "I have more than one?" I was smiling, trying so fucking hard to make everything okay. She laughed, sat back and shoved me a little. 

"You egotist," she accused. We both knew it wasn't true, but this was almost a game by now. She said things that she was supposed to say, I pretended that they meant something to me. If either of us ever admitted that it wasn't real, if we ever admitted that we knew the other one was just playing a role, we'd have nothing. "You know you're beautiful. You have great arms, great hair…" she trailed off. Her gaze set on mine. "Beautiful eyes…"

I realized what was going on and turned away from her, putting the mug down on a table beside the couch, leaning my elbows on me knees and tangling my fingers into my hair. "Don't do this to me," I said under my breath.  Saphrin stood up, grabbed the mug off the table and disappeared into the kitchen. My scalp burned from me tugging at my hair, it took me a moment to work up the nerve to follow her. When I walked into the kitchen I saw her leaning against the counter, her hands gripping the edge, her hair in her face. I bit my lip.

"Sorry…" I said to her. I hadn't noticed before the way her midsection had filled out, the prominence of the pregnancy had taken form. "Listen…can we just talk?" even I heard the desperation in my voice. "Please? That's all I really want from you, I just need someone to talk to…"

She smiled up at me. "Of course we can talk, duckiebunches," she took me by the hand and led me back into the living room, through there and into the guest room, where she'd already set up a bed for me. There was an electric blanket over it, which she turned off once we entered, just made it so that the bed was warm. She acted like everything was so breezy, I kind of envied it. "Sorry about me spacing out," she said. "I haven't really been myself lately…" she placed a hand on her unborn child. Five months along, not a huge kid or anything, but you could tell.  

I shrugged. The bed was in the corner, she was leaning against the wall at the foot of the bed, I had my legs crossed in front of me at the head. She reached over, put her hand on my knee. Squeezed. I looked away from her.

"So you wanna tell me what happened?" 

My head snapped up, I must've made some shocked little sound. It surprised me, since she never usually pressed me like that. My mouth hung open. "Umm…"

"Kane, it's okay, you're here, you're with me, I have plenty more hot chocolate…" she rubbed my thigh, moved over to sit closer to me, took my hands, holding the scarred one without hesitation. That made me feel more comfortable around her, instilled me to remember that she was my friend. She smiled, an unwavering stare on me. It wasn't menacing or anything but kind of scared me. As similar as our minds worked, she was really unreadable sometimes.

"What needs to happen?" I asked her, looking away, staring at her hands. It was like she had magic powers or something, willing me to yield to her questions. One of her hands pulled away, they were like magnets to my legs or something. She gripped what she could, obviously couldn't reach her hand around my thigh. I groaned, my head fell back against the headboard. I closed my eyes, all I could see was Amber.

"…Kane?"

Maybe I hadn't realized how long the pause had gone on. I opened my eyes, felt chills to see Saphrin there as if I'd felt her hand on me and expected to see Amber. My eyes started watering and her face filled with concern. "It's strange…" I finally told her. My voice cracked.

"What?"

I bit my lip, I could feel my hands shaking. "Just…that she's gone. I mean, when you really think about it…when you step outside yourself and think about it…it's just weird. Do you know what I mean?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Like, we're never…_never_ going to see her again…" we were depressing each other. Staring at each other. Torturing each other.

Each of us wanted something that we couldn't have. That was the bottom line.

"It's almost the same feeling as having a child," she added, hesitantly. Before I could get stung by the comment, she fondled my leg again. "I know what you mean though. Death is a strange thing…it's like, this one time over the summer, I was all alone in the house with Evan…and I was watching Halloween VI, and I figured: 'Hey, Amber would like this. Maybe I'll give her a call…' and then…. It's so natural to think that she's around…when you remember that she isn't, even if it's been a while, it's fucked up. Cause I guess, when you're not thinking about what happened, it's just easy to think that she's still here…" 

The room was stiflingly silent. I tensed. "What happened? That day with the movie. What happened after you remembered?"

Save for the few times I'd seen her crying, she'd always seemed so relaxed. Just then, even, she leaned back, tapped her fingers against her stomach, narrowed her eyes a  little. It seemed like a cigarette could've been there, which would've completed that laid-back image of hers.

"I cried," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "What else is there to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," she repeated. Her arms reached up, over her head to stretch. She shifted and laid down over me, so that her head rested against my chest, so that she was practically in my lap. I didn't know why she was doing this, but didn't have the energy to argue, so wrapped my arms around her, rested my hands on top of hers on the womb.

"Any names?" I asked after a while. I felt a little screwed over by nature sometimes, thought about how it wasn't fair that I was huge and strong and seven feet tall…when I was depressed I wondered why I couldn't be little, like Spike Dudley or Jeff Hardy, someone who could be comforted by another person. When I was in good spirits I was really proud of my size, but I suppose when you feel that depressed and insignificant, you wish you were as small as you felt. 

I think perhaps this was another one of Saphrin's tricks, kind of showing me that it was just as comforting to hold someone else.

"A boy…I dunno. I'll ask Raven. But a girl…Astra Lynn? I like that one, it'll be fun."

"Fun," I echoed. She turned her head, twisting a little to look at me.

"Cheer up, Kane," she said. My hands suddenly felt burning on hers, I wanted to get away from her…but something made me stay. My masochism, my bravery, my will to do anything about it faded thin from all this abuse I'd taken in. "You want more hot chocolate?"

"No…" I felt so tired. Not like I wanted to sleep. Just…tired. "What am I supposed to do with myself, anyway?" I asked her.

"Well…you got ripped again. Does that mean anything?"

"How?"

"Like…personally? Does it make you feel better that you rebuilt your body? That takes a lot of work, you know."

"Yeah, I know…obviously…" 

She turned away, laid back down on me, shifted her hands so that hers were on top of mine, squeezing them. "Well…? Does that make you feel better, that's kind of doing something with yourself, right?"

I groaned. "Not really. I don't know…I need like a job or something. I don't need any money, I just need something to do. Working out is like…it's like breathing, for me. I like being in shape, you know? I don't feel proud that I fixed myself up, I just felt overly disgusted that I'd gotten all thin."

"So go get a job," she told me. I couldn't respond to that.

After a while I started to doze off, the exhaustion I'd gone through all that day weighing heavily on me. Saphrin stayed where she was, curled on her side a little next to me, wrapping her arms around me. I was too tired to protest. As I started falling asleep I remember saying "Won't Raven be mad at us?"

And she said: "No."

I woke up the next morning with her still on the bed, on the other side of it, minding her business. The house was really warm, comforting. I stretched and got up, left the room, tried to be quiet and not disturb her. I checked in on Evan, too, for no real reason, he was still sleeping and was fine. 

Everything was really quiet, very calm as I passed through the kitchen and went into the living room, as I sat down on the couch and held my head in my hands. The cordless phone was on the table next to the couch, where I'd put down the mug the night before. I picked it up, stared at it in my hands for a while.

Saphrin was still sleeping. So was Evan. I didn't know where Sugarbear was. Basically I was alone to think about this. It was a big step.

With my opposite hand I reached up and touched the unscarred arm, ran it up over my elbow and bicep, up to my shoulder. It felt good to have all the muscle filled back in. Maybe Saphrin was right, maybe I should've been happy that I'd improved myself. Maybe…

I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, feeling the phone in my right hand. The nerves were bursting all through my body, made my hands tremble when I finally opened my eyes and turned the phone on.

And dialed.

And put it to my ear.

And waited.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hey, this is Kane…" I said.

"Kane? Oh, hey. What's going on?"

"Vince…? I want to come back."


	66. Paranormal Lullaby

**Chapter 66**

Sometimes, in wrestling, when you go out for so long, coming back is like starting over. It was. When I came back they kept it a secret didn't give me any dark matches that would let fans know that I was back, which would get all over the internet. I stayed with Saphrin for a few days before arranging to go back on the road, taking time to go back to Indianapolis first, then to Vermont.

Going to Vermont was something I knew I needed to do. I was taking a big step, it was like a spiritual thing I needed to do. I didn't tell anyone that I was doing this, either, I knew that whoever it would be that found out (Mark, Raven, Saphrin) would adamantly protest and want to come with me, but it was something I needed to do.

Actually it wasn't so bad. I went in, didn't freak out or get sick, just went in, walked to the bedroom, put my things down. I stretched out on the bed, kind of missing it. It was different than the bed in Indianapolis, more comfortable…

It amazed me that it had been so long and yet I could still smell her. Her perfume, her shampoo, everything about her. Like she was still there with me.

I fell asleep for a while, not dreaming, waking up and feeling kind of strange, since I hadn't been there in so long. It made some tingle, to instantly wake up and for half a second think that it was back when things were still good, and then I just remembered…it was just strange. Nostalgic, which still then was a gray area between sad and happy. I was too confused to translate my emotions over nostalgia. Happy to remember her, sad because she was gone, the same argument I'd been having with myself since February.

When I woke up I just sighed, looked over to her side of the bed and reached out, put my hand on the pillow. Everything in the house was kind of dusty, places in sunlight from the windows were kind of sun-stained, places with too much dust were getting dirty. The bed wasn't so bad, the pillow just felt…what's the word? Stale? I couldn't tell if it had actually physically changed or if it was just my mind. It was weird to think about it, like a ghost house that hadn't been used in so long.

My hand dug into the pillow, squeezed it. I clenched my fist, felt my body shake a little, didn't cry. I needed to stop that, and I was getting better at controlling it, partially because I was getting over what happened. Even then I knew that I'd never…let go of her. Scar tissue, you know? It'll always be there, even when the wound heals. 

I sat up, listened to the house, wondering if by some chance…something would happen. It was so still that I couldn't imagine it going on forever. Silence like that never lasts.

My ghost house, empty shell of a _home_ that we'd once shared.

Were they ghosts? Was that possible? Were they in Heaven or Hell? Were their souls even around? They sometimes say that people who die violent deaths tend to stick around, that they're confused and angry and at unrest. Was it true? Was it possible?

It would be a lie if I even said I knew nothing about psychic phenomena and clairvoyance and all that. I can't lie that I didn't know about the preternatural realm, but I can say that I tried to deny it. In my heart…I think I always knew all those things were real, but the way I grew up fixed in me that I'd rather not know, that it was all evil. I remember the things Paul used to do and say, and I remember our father always telling me and Mark to stay out of the basement…when we were little we always figured it was just because the embalming rooms were down there and he didn't want to scare us…

That didn't make sense though. Because while I remember that, I also remember this one time…it must've been shortly before the fire, Mark was only nine or ten years old. This kid was making fun of me, and Mark kicked his ass. Our father wasn't home, Mother was busy with some clients out at a cemetery looking for plots. Paul, who worked there sometimes wasn't around either, we were alone. I was watching Mark from my bedroom window, he was outside, down in the U driveway, beating the hell outta him…then, when it was mostly over with, he stood over the bleeding body, glaring…I thought Mark was done. I loved him so much just then, he made me feel so safe…

He looked up at me, smiled for just a second before turning his head down again, taking a moment before picking the kid up, dragging him into the house. I got up and ran down the stairs, sitting down in the same place where I would trip and fall during the fire in only a few months. I sat there, just watching as Mark cursed at him, then threw him down the basement stairs, slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside.

We both listened to the scream.

The thuds as he tumbled down the stairs.

The silence that ensued. 

Without noise I joined Mark's side, both of us just standing there nearly unable to breathe, just waiting for something to happen. My heart was pounding, listening, hearing nothing. For a moment I thought he must've been dead.

Silence never lasts.

Just when I was starting to actually fear that my brother had killed someone, we both stepped back, startled. We both heard it. His footsteps, pounding up the stairs, all the way up in a few seconds. He banged on the door, hammered. I looked at Mark, he looked right back at me. That emerald colour has never really changed.

"Let me out!" the kid begged. Mark turned away from me and just stared at the door. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "_PLEASE_!" the kid screamed. The banging on the door quickened, he screamed out such a shriek that it sounded like his lungs were ripping. Neither of us did anything. After a while it finally slowed down.

We both heard his body lean against the door.

Slide down.

Hit the floor.

How morbid that for the next few years this was exactly what I would be doing, and that was exactly the way Mark would react- just staring. Not doing a fucking thing.

"Mark,"  I said, kind of scared. "Let him out…"

Mark narrowed his eyes at me just a moment, then stepped forward, flicked the lock on the handle over and pulled the door open.

I don't care what anyone says. No kid, and nine year old boy for that matter, would've looked that horrified by seeing a corpse. I lived in a funeral parlour, I know this things. Most boys are more fascinated at these things, the way they are with toilet humour. Disgusting things amuse most little boys, you know?

Even if he had seen a corpse, even if he'd gotten startled by it…I could understand him running up the stairs, I used to do that at his age when I saw rats, and when I had nightmares. But it was the _look_ on his face, that I still remember. Horror. Just…pure horror. Something had really just scared the shit out of him.

He looked up at Mark once the door was open, then at me. His lip quivered, the tears streaked his face. His eyes were huge, face deathly pale. Like a mute his mouth opened and closed, no words or sounds coming. He wobbled up to his feet, shaking violently, nose bleeding from the damage mark had done. We both stood back, watched him stumble past us, his eyes fixed on nothing.

Mark and I have never talked about it, but I'm sure he remembers, just like I do.

Something down there…

If that wasn't enough to make me believe in all that paranormal shit…maybe Mark's mind would be the deciding factor that made me believe in the other world.

Those things were real- telepathy, spirits, magic…right?

It frightened me to no end to imagine that Amber was still around, to smell her perfume so acutely and _know_ that the house couldn't possibly just still smell that way, know that it was her presence. My heard started racing as I stood up and faced the empty room, the silence swallowing me, the scent filling me. Vices gripped my chest.

"Amber…?" I whispered.

Warmth started to swirl around me, like hands caressing me, over my arms, over my chest, through my hair. The smell was overwhelming, almost nauseating at one point. I felt like I could've fallen down but something was holding me up. A soft pressure was on my chest, also on my back, like a hug. Benevolent forces, keeping me together, so peaceful that it didn't even make me sad.

I reached my hands out, closed my eyes, tried to feel her. I knew her by heart, didn't need to look to know where her head would be. I ran my hand through her hair. Even though I couldn't see her, I could…feel her, felt the mass of her body, the warmth, the strength.

She was with me, she really was.

"Amber…" I said again. "I love you."

The pressure around my waist got tighter for a moment, giving me breezes of thousands of memories. Was this some response?

I opened my eyes, wondering if, even for just a second, I would see her. It was so absurd, I could FEEL her! We were hugging, she was physically there. But when I looked…there was nothing. I started getting cold.

I curled my hands in her hair, felt blind. "Don't go," I begged. "Amber? Please don't leave me again! I don't have anyone anymore, I love you, I'm still…_so_ in love with you…don't leave me again…"

But I couldn't make it stop. It got to the point where I was shivering, when I couldn't feel her anymore. In a rush I grabbed one of my jackets out of the closet, one that I hadn't used in a long time, pulled on my shoes and grabbed my keys and got the fuck away from there. I got to the garage, into the car that I hadn't used in so long. The motorcycle was there, too. I guess Mark had taken care of all of that for me.

Right then I wasn't sure where I was going, just knew I needed to get out. I turned the car on, shocked when the music came on. I guess…the CD was still in there. And the song was still on. And I heard it differently.

"_My reflection wraps and pulls me under healing waters to be bathed in. Breña guides me safely in worlds I've never been to. Heal me, heal me, my dear Breña._" The bile rose in my throat, I stopped the car halfway down the driveway, staring up at the house, remembering the cop car, the way the lights had splashed up on the side of the house, red and blue. I wondered if there was anything worth crying over up at the chapel…

 I searched through the CD jacket, finding all kinds of CDs that I hadn't listened to or seen in the longest time. I actually laughed out loud a little as I found Vulgar Display of Power, missing it as I put it in. I held Mer de Noms in my hand for a moment, stared at it until finally tossing it on the passenger seat, continuing to pull out of the driveway then. 

Prior to that I hadn't noticed Claudette's seat in the back. I saw it in the rearview mirror. I glared at it, then just kept on driving, turning up the road to the chapel. The music was all heavy, made me happy, filled me with some kind of joy that I hadn't felt in a while. I remember we'd listened to that CD right after we found out Amber was pregnant, in the car going to Long Island. 

Good to get my mind off everything though, you know?

It took me a few minutes to drive up there, I stopped the car where I had to get out and walk, where the ambulances had stopped that night. I stared through the trees, sitting there for a few minutes before stepping out. It was autumn, a few days before Halloween, all chilly, the leaves all dried and changing colours. I could see straight through to the outline of the building. I wondered if I would find something gruesome there, if anything would be left at all…which was funny because the house I was staying in happened to be covered in blood. 

Finally I worked up the courage, got out of the car, crunched over the leaves to walk up to the base of the building. Every time I went up there it was more and more eroded, this time all the benches were mostly collapsed, less of the stained glass was around. The alter was still there, this huge stone altar up in the front of the skeleton of the small place. I walked up to it, my hands shoved in my pockets, cold. I looked around not knowing what to think, just curious. If anyone had been passing by, it would've been so calm. Just a man in the place where his wife had died. To me, she'd died up there. I don't care if I was out of my mind at the time, I could still feel the life in her when I got to the house. 

Obviously there was nothing up there of hers, or of mine. I sighed, took my hand out and brushed off part of the altar, sitting down on it. I could actually swing my legs from there, which was a bit amusing.

There had been nothing to do in that town, ever. Nothing to ever fucking do unless we were hanging out at the house, watching movies, working out, having sex…later one when Claudette was around she took up a lot of the time, too. But before that? That place was so fucking boring, that's why I'd chosen to get a house there. It was secluded, I could keep to myself, I had a big house were I could hide from myself…it was essentially perfect. 

That was why the chapel was so great. I know I didn't talk about it much, but Amber and I went up there a lot, when we got bored. To be completely honest, we'd even fooled around up there, too, back in those days when we could just never keep our hands off each other. And that filled me with curiosity as I remembered something.

One of the nearby trees was there, it always was, huge and prominent. I stood up and walked over the foundation of the building, into the woods a few feet to the tree. I reached my fingers out, grazing the bark. It was still there.

"**KANE + AMBER AAF**". She'd carved it there once. I laughed at her at the time, she laughed at herself, too. But…oh my God it was still there. I put my hand over it, felt the carvings tickling my hand. I turned back to look at the chapel. It was so empty, so lifeless…I turned and left without being able to think any further.

The first day, we'd come back, plopped down in the living room, and then decided to get sandwiches. I told her to stay home and relax while I went grocery shopping. Which reminded me- there was no food in the house.

I got back in the car, turned the Pantera back on, started driving down into town. People were looking at me strange there, whether it was simply because I get that everywhere I go or because they recognized me, remembered me, knew what happened. No one said anything to me, I went about my business shopping, the coming back. 

The bloodstains were mostly ignored, the ones in the kitchen I managed to overlook as I cleaned up, threw out all the old food, dusted everything off and put the groceries away. I made dinner for myself some time later, went into the bedroom and watched TV as I ate. I didn't want to be anywhere else, didn't want to look at the blood while I ate. 

Again I thought about those numbers that James had given me, companies that dealt with these situations, professional cleaners that specialized in cleaning up blood and such. I considered calling them, to fix the mess…I also considered leaving it there. As much as it upset me and nauseated me…I don't know. It was a part of her. It was almost sentimental.

Once I'd worked up the balls to do it I finally started fixing up the living room, vacuuming, dusting, fixing the lamp that was _still_ on the floor. The bulb had burned out long before, but I found another one to replace it. Everything seemed in place, save for the blood. I sat down on one of the couches and stared at the stains, trying to make up my mind. It filled me with restlessness, made me keep going room to room in the house and cleaning up what I could, spending at least a half hour inspecting the hole I'd made in the wall when I'd punched it that night.

It was hard for me to go into Claudette's room, when I finally did it wasn't so bad. There wasn't any blood or anything in there, just the horrifying images of a nursery, knowing a kid was murdered in there. Horror movie kinds of things. I sat down on the floor, leaned against the wall, opened her toy box and started looking through all the things that we used to play with.

The silence killed me again, made me so afraid. I stared around the room, eyes darting from corner to corner, then to the window which was blackened with night. It was so intense, made me so afraid, made me realize that I hadn't even been paying attention to what time it was and was now lost. I was just _scared_ and that was the bottom line. I was afraid to move, didn't want to provoke something horrible happening, felt scared of the window and that something would pop through it, same of the closet and the door and the toy trunk. At the same time I felt scared to go back into the hall. It was completely irrational but very real to me, tying knots in my stomach.

It's all the silence that fucks with your head. Nothing else. That's what freaked me out so much, made me wish that I had left some music on or something to hide all of it. Also made me wish that I wasn't such a pussy and would just get up and leave already.

I kept laughing at myself. At one point I stood, and said out loud to myself: "You are being so fucking stupid, just go to bed, you're too tired."

I couldn't smell Amber anymore, either, couldn't tell if that was good or bad. But that meant no spirits, right? I was being such a child, kept scolding myself for being a baby but honestly couldn't help it. It was scary, it really was. What made it worse was that the second I turned out of the room, had my back to the doorway, I heard this…clicking sound.

That hanging music box thing, over the crib that she'd slowly grown out of using. In my dream it had played Orestes. Now the cord was being pulled down, causing the hair to rise on my neck. I was too scared to turn around, was afraid that this must've been another nightmare, but it wasn't. I was met with the little chimes of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I stood there listening to it, thought about the hug I'd shared with Amber, turned around to see maybe if Claudie would be there, too.

She wasn't.

I could see…what was it? An aura, I could see it. Against the blackness of the room, the light from the hallway trickled in and highlighted the heat waves of an aura, the shape of a little girl, no bigger than a two year old. She didn't…_seem_ to be angry. I knelt down on one knee and reached my hand out.

"Hey, Claudie," I said. Claudette came toward me, I could see a limb reaching out, though I couldn't see details like fingers. This was scaring the hell out of me but I had to do it anyway. She wrapped her hand around my index finger, squeezing. I smiled, listening to the music. 

I remembered the insomnia she could get sometimes. Not on the road, I think since she'd been raised traveling, she wasn't used to having a _house_. It was when we were home, sometimes. She just couldn't sleep. 

"Go to sleep, sweet pea," I said to her. "Bed time, Claudette Pearl…" all the things Amber and I used to say to her.

My eyes burned as the grip on my finger lessened. It was so surreal, it actually felt like her tiny hand there, but I couldn't see it. I bit my lip as she pulled away, as the music came to a stop. I didn't want her to be in the house, I didn't want her to have that insomnia, be stuck in limbo. Her spirit was there, though…and I didn't want her to leave. She had so much ahead of her if she just could've lived…

When I was sure that she was gone I went back to my room, curling up in bed, crying a little bit. I had totally avoided the room where I'd tried to kill myself, and planned on that. Also planned on calling those cleaners in the morning before I left. I'd have to get new carpeting and stuff, too. More than just the cleaning. Once I squared everything away then, I would leave.

In the morning I felt strangely at peace, felt like she'd been beside me all night somehow. It made the day start happy, gave me the courage to take a shower in the bathroom where the first of my string of Mer de Noms nightmares had taken place. It wasn't so bad, really. From there I had the strength to make the phone calls, to make myself breakfast, to pack some food for on the plane.

A couple hours later, when I made sure everything was tied up and ready, I was ready to leave. At the door, I paused, felt drawn into the house for some reason. Warmth passed through me.

I swore I heard her voice, in my head, around me, everywhere.

"I love you, too," she said.

Once I was in the car, I threw Mer de Noms out the window.


	67. Big Red Broken Heart

**Chapter 67**

The redebut was the Raw after Halloween. It was…really fun. I didn't admit it at the time but I had a really good time. And it felt incredible to be there again.

Everyone backstage was really nice about it, and they didn't crowd me, which I appreciated. See…the week before, on the Halloween show (even though it wasn't actually on Halloween), Mark came out dressed as me. He'd done it before, that time with the Ministry and everything…this was different though, for the Halloween show. It was a teaser, he came out dressed like me, with the mask, with his hair curled…the works. And the crowd freaked out. And just because of the impact it made, there were all kinds of rumors all over the internet. 

So then I came out, everyone in the crowd wasn't that excited, just like "Oh, great, it's Taker again…" 

I was wearing the costume with two sleeves, the one that Mark would wear to cover up his tattoos…I was considering wearing it from then on just because I was kind of self conscious that both my arms were scarred then, not just my one hand. It made me angry at myself. That night I wore it just to trick everyone, I hadn't made my mind up yet. I liked having one sleeve better, though.

As I was pacing the ring, Mark's music came on. I turned to look up at the 'Tron, to the entranceway…I knew when Mark had jumped the barricade behind me just from the reaction. There was an _insane_ pop. I guess the fans liked me, or maybe it was just the shock that I'd made a big return. Whatever it was, the crowd went nuts as they saw both of us in the ring, as Mark came up from behind to attack me, as the lights came back on from the purple teaser entrance lights. We wrestled for a few minutes, I came out on top, chokeslammed him, stood over his body.

For the first time in all those months I stood over him, clenched the muscles in my arms, slowly raised them. God, I hadn't realized how much I'd missed wrestling until I brought my arms down, shaken by how loud the explosion was, how bright, how it drove the fans crazy. It made me feel powerful doing that. It made me notice that in pining for Amber I'd forgotten about the one other thing I loved. 

Backstage everyone clapped for me, and I shared a hug with Raven which was perhaps a little too long. I had missed him, really. And before the show was over he and Mark brought me out to dinner, then to the hotel. We hung out, like old times, except…without our women. And children. And pets. So okay, it was _almost_ like old times. Close enough.

They both knew that this was some heavy stuff I was going through, that this was just another huge step that I was taking, and they were both really supportive of me. We split a case of beer back at the hotel and watched some movies that were on one of the cable channels, just tried to relax. We watched _Dracula_ from 1931, with Bela Lugosi and Dwight Frye, which Mark and I used to watch all the time before the fire. Also some girly Audrey Hepburn movie called _Sabrina_, that we watched only because it was on. It was cute, I guess, as most of her movies were. When it was over, Raven left, Mark stayed because we were sharing a room. After Raven was gone he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt, I did the same. We both sat down on our respective beds but didn't lay down, just sated at each other.

I thought of that time in the hospital, that stupid stupid fight we'd gotten in. I'd been so angry…I'd just let it go because he was all I had. And right then he was all I had, alone in the room with me. I ignored me anger towards him just because…because…I needed him. We'd fought before, we'd gone on those periods of silence…I never enjoyed them. And I didn't _want_ to go through that again, especially not after all the shit that had happened. Looking at him then made my body ache, feel the effects of that day, wearing me out in a way that I hadn't felt in a long time.

"So, uhh…" Mark averted his eyes nervously and tied back his hair. "Have fun?"

"Yeah, it feels really great, you know?"

"Yeah."

"The crowd really enjoyed it, I think. That makes it better."

"Yeah."

I groaned. "You know talking to you is like talking to a fucking wall sometimes, you know?" he started to say something but I pointed at him and cut him off. "Don't say 'yeah'!"

Mark laughed and looked back up at me. I was slammed with the urge to cry when I met his eyes. I don't know what it was about him, but it just made me want to cry. I think it was just this overwhelming fear that I felt just being there, looking at him. He was all I really had left. I mean, sure, Raven and Saph were around…but Mark was my brother. It frightened me to think that he wouldn't be around. The only reason I thought of it was because…I don't know why. Because I was upset, because I was thinking about the stupid argument, because…it was just really stressful, all of it, I guess.

"You okay?" he asked me after a moment. I guess he sensed my fear. I played with my hair a little, it was dry and all fucking poofy and annoying. Everywhere. God I hated when it swelled out like that. My hands started fidgeting, against my will, and I looked away from him.

I sighed. "I don't know, Mark…" I admitted. I didn't look but I heard him stand up and take a couple steps across the room, felt the bed shift down under his weight when he sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. My body felt like water, weak as I fell against him, leaning my head against him. "I'm just…scared."

"I know."

"Yeah I guess I don't need to tell you, huh?"

He shrugged. "You can if it makes you feel better…"

The tears were rising. I bit my lip as I shifted, somehow ended up with my head in his lap, on my back, looking up at him. "Mark…"

"What is it, Kane?"

"I'm…" I started to cry. "I'm just…scared." I started to shake, curled up. He held my hand, pushed my hair away from my face, rubbed my shoulder. So this is how things work, right? You think you're recovering from something…you don't cry, you feel fine…then it all comes back at once. That was why I'd been mostly fine for the past few weeks…just then though I was just crying. Mark didn't seem to mind, though.

"Kane, I'm not going to leave you," he told me. "I'm not lying to you, and you know it."  I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hold back from screaming out in anguish. He spoke softly to me, repeating the same words, trying to comfort me as I sat there sobbing. After a while I pulled away from him, slid over a couple feet from him, rubbed my eyes. I just stared.

"But Mark…" my lip was quivering. I felt so weak. "You knew that it was going to happen. You _knew_ and you never told me…"

He started to answer me and again I cut him off. "Why couldn't you have just told me? I would've done something about it, I could've stopped it from happening…and now she's gone…"

"Kane, even if you'd known it would've happened anyway. It was what was meant to be, you can't just changed it. And what would've you have done if you'd know that it was gonna happen but couldn't do anything? You'd be crazier than you are now…"

"I know, but…" I couldn't stop shaking, pressed my palms against my eyes and tried to stop crying. "Mark I _trusted_ you…"

He didn't say anything. I moved my hands away to look at him, he looked sad. I couldn't fucking stop shaking, it was almost violent. It made me feel vulnerable, not being able to control myself, even when I wasn't sobbing and just shaking, I just…couldn't grab a hold of myself, and Mark was just staring. 

"I love you," I blurted out, and a fresh wave of tears came on. I cried silently, not sobbing. "Mark I just…oh fuck. Just please don't…please don't get mad at me. I can't take it…" I don't know why I was freaking out so much, like an anxiety attack or something. I just…I couldn't help it. All at once I was just thinking about it, staring at him, watching him watching me, watching him witness my downfall. All I saw was pity in his eyes, maybe regret, definitely pain. We'd been through so much, it was torture for either of us to bring up all this shit. 

"Calm down," he said to me, and put his hand on my knee. All I could see in my head was Amber's body sprawled on the kitchen floor, the blood everywhere. It was haunting me, making me feel cold. She left me. She _left me_ after I'd stupidly convinced myself that all the shit in my life was going to stop, that it was all going to be good for a while. I couldn't…I didn't know what to do. I felt like she'd lied to me, felt paralyzed, couldn't do anything but stare at Mark, afraid that he would leave me to. I loved him so much, he was my brother, he was the only friend I had left, Amber had told me that hse would never leave me, either…I didn't know who to believe.

I reached out one of my hands to rest on top of his, shaking so much that it actually hurt my arm. "M-Mark…" I stuttered. He moved over and sat next to me, put his hands on my shoulder. "Please…" my eyes stung, hurt really. I was trying to look at him straight on like how he was looking at me but it was hard to. It was easier when the tears made him look blurry.

Blood. I wanted Amber back. That's all I've ever really wanted, you know.

What were greens and red were starting to mix in my vision, emerald and blood. God…I was just _scared_ all of a sudden, that was what made me freak out like that. I was just scared. I needed Mark, I needed to know that I could trust him, I needed to know that he wouldn't leave me like she did. It was strange how that desperation had just suddenly…_hit_ me the way it did. Just out of nowhere. One second teasing Mark, the next sobbing. Jesus Christ. What a mess I was. Mark slid closer to me again, held me again, hugged me. I leaned my forehead on his shoulder, closing my eyes, trying to feel comforted by the way he rubbed my back as I wrapped my arms around his waist. Wonderful that I didn't have to struggle wording any of these feelings, that he kind of just…knew. 

"Don't be so scared, Kane," he said to me. He was so gentle, his voice was so soothing. I slowly lifted my head to look at him, letting the tears leave my eyes, clear my view. All I saw was green. And then…

He kissed me.

He fucking kissed me.

I was taken by surprise, as you can guess. I didn't really know what to do, why should I have known? Most people wouldn't have had a fucking clue, anyway. But you know what was strange? It made me feel better. So I kissed him back. I had never kissed a man before, either. It was strange. Yet…so comforting. He wrapped his arms around me, eased me down onto the bed, kept kissing me until I'd stopped shaking. 

It was so wrong. He was my _brother_. While I knew that in my head, and was kind of disgusted, I couldn't make it feel wrong. Don't take it the wrong way- it didn't turn me on or anything, and I could tell it didn't turn him on, either. But just…I don't know. It made me stop shaking, that was all that mattered. 

I think I may have moaned against his mouth, against out goatees pressing against each other, against him on top of me, right as he pulled away, when I realized that I'd closed my eyes, when I opened them. He looked kind of drunk, and sad. I couldn't say anything, even felt empty when he pulled away. Neither of us said anything. For a moment he just stayed there on top of me until just kissing me on the forehead, then reaching over to turn the light off, then rolling over and sleeping beside me in bed. 

Nothing like that ever happened again. I didn't really want it to or anything, but just for the record- it's not like we started just making out left and right all the time. Just that once. And it worked, whatever he was trying to pull off, because I felt safe with him, and I stopped being paranoid that he was going to leave me, and I relaxed a little.

Traveling just felt like I'd picked up when I left off, I got back into the groove of it after only a few days, got used to the sleeping cycles and everything. I felt safe with Mark, when we were at the arena I stuck by his side, I tried to keep it so that we were sharing hotel rooms and all. Sometimes here and there he would have a girl up in the room, so I'd go hang out with Raven until they were done. I trusted Raven, too, don't get me wrong, but Mark was just more important to me. I didn't want to be far away from him.

My second shot at wrestling didn't last that long, honestly.

When I first came back, for the first couple weeks everything was going great, I was happy that I was wrestling again, I was having a lot of fun, I was feuding Mark so didn't really have to wrestle anyone except him. But then…once I got into the swing of everything again, when I got used to being on the road and used to rushing to airports and eating meals in the car…I don't know. I couldn't make it feel right anyone.

In the beginning it had been that way and I was miserable, as miserable as I had been the second time. What separated was my innocence at the time. I was destined to be lonely and I knew it, as long as nothing fucked around with that I would be fun. But guess what? Something fucked around with it. I met Amber and fell in love with her, had something with her… If I just hadn't known what that felt like, this loneliness would never bother me the way it does now. And then, too. 

My name- The Big Red Machine. I was turning into a machine, really, some stolid monster that couldn't feel anything anymore. I just had to block it all out, fall into the system, let the inertia keep me sustained, let Mark keep me safe. 

I had too much of a heart to keep it up though.

Vince came to me some time in December. He told me that he noticed that my performance was declining, asked if everything was okay. I told him I was sorry for fucking up a little and told him that everything would be okay, which was my rushed and nervous lie. As soon as we were done talking I rushed to find Mark, he was getting ready in the locker room, putting on his eyeliner. Raven wasn't around, was probably off eating or on the phone with Saph. What else would he do with himself? I closed the bathroom door with me and Mark in there, he must've seen the panic on my face instantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

"I…I don't know if I can do this anymore," I told him.

"Do what?"

My hands made a clumsy gesture to show the room. "This. All of this. Wrestling. I just…I don't know if I can do it anymore." I ran my hands through my hair, stood there nervously, waiting for him to give me some piece of advice that I knew he could help me with.

Instead he just stared. "Kane…Kane don't be silly."

"Silly?" I felt like I was falling. "Mark, I'm not being silly. I just…I don't know if I can do this. I…I…"

He put his things down on the sink counter and put his hands on my shoulder. "Kane you're just getting anxious. Calm down. Breathe…" he tilted his head back and looked down at me a little, giving me a second. I did what he said, took in a deep breath, tried to calm myself down. I could feel the panic attack coming up, rising in my chest. I'd been getting them now and then, this was my gift instead of crying. He gave me a moment. "Kane listen. You're just upset. You miss Amber, I know you miss Amber. And Christmas is coming up and you're gonna miss her even more but you're just overreacting to think that you _don't _ want to wrestle anymore, you're just being weird. Just think about it."

Fuck. I hadn't even thought about Christmas or considered it at all. Well now that he mentioned it… "Mark…I can't. I can't do it anymore, it's not the same…I…" the tears swelled and shrunk in my eyes but didn't fall. "I just want to go _home_." I said the word with such a tenderness.

Mark narrowed his eyes, trying to tell what I was thinking, if I was serious or not. "I know you want me to give you advice," he said. I nodded, childishly. "Here's what you can do about this. You can see if you can get the night off, go back to the hotel, relax a little. And then just think about all of this. Think about if you really want to go back to being alone all the time or if you want to stay on the road. Think about the fans, think about Vince, think about me. I think you should get over this, and I think Amber would want you to stay around to. It would kill her all over again if she saw how miserable you were…" he paused. "But anyway. Just…look in the mirror, ask yourself if you really want to quit. Try to find in yourself that love for wrestling and decide if you really want to part with it…"

He patted me on the shoulder again, I almost collapsed. "Thanks," I said, nearly inaudible. 

I got back to the hotel within maybe ten minutes, flopping onto one of the beds, staring up at the ceiling. There was a clock on the wall, the second hand ticking. I focused in on that, found myself lost in it, swimming somewhere in my head or in my heart, misplaced. I felt kind of stupid for wanting to quit, only when I'd just redebuted. And I knew that Mark was probably right saying that Amber would've been upset for me quitting again…but…

She wasn't around. She wasn't there for me. I had no reason to stick around for her when she couldn't have done it for me.

After a while I looked up at the clock, seeing that a couple of hours had passed, that Mark would be in any second. The mirror on the other side of the room laughed at me. My heart pounded as I stood up, walked over to it. I was wearing a t-shirt, looking at the scars from the cuts on my left arm, then moving to see the creased and ugly burn scars on the right. I avoided my face for a few minutes, examining my arms, my eyes slowly lifting to my biceps stretching the shirt sleeves, to my shoulders which always seemed crooked in posture, to my neck…to my face…

It hadn't changed all these years. It had never gotten better or worse. Maybe the only thing that wouldn't leave me now, these scars, my only friend was those imperfections. I saw my eyebrows come together as I fixed on my own eyes, the blind one, the one that was just pale blue, the other one, dark gray-blue, sometimes almost brown. Sometimes green. Kind of absorbing colours all the time. 

The part of me that loved wrestling just wanted to stay. The scared side of me just wanted to run away. I didn't know what to do as I stared at myself.

I leaned down against the dresser, my face mere inches from the reflective glass. I searched deep in myself for some expression, some beam of light, some spark, _anything_ that would make me want to stay. I tried to see the Kane that the fans saw, the monster, the powerful demon monster heel that wouldn't be stopped. 

In those shattered irises I tried to see the reflection of a big red machine, the thing I wanted to be.

But all that was seen was my big red broken heart.

Yeah. It was time to call it quits again. This time I wasn't coming back.


	68. Accelerate

**Chapter 68**

Sometimes when I look back at everything I don't know how I got the way I came to be. Other times for a second it will make perfect sense, and before I have the chance to understand it, it just goes away again. Like just a tiny shine that lasts for a second before disappearing. I can't stand thinking about it, it confuses me.

It was just this…thing. That happened to me. I don't know if there was ever a beginning or an end, I suppose it was too gradual to ever let me notice what was going on. There were certain events that led up to my turning into an actual monster. I'm actually really critical of myself now for becoming this way. I didn't mean to do it…

Probably it started when I wanted to stop wrestling. I _wanted to stop wrestling_. But Vince, being the asshole that he is, begged me to stay around. He was saying that he cared about me but I knew it was about money, cause since I'd come back the ratings had gone up and everything. As if he wasn't rich enough, right? 

He was all testy with me when I told him that I wanted to quit, made me argue with him. I wanted to just pound him, he was bugging the hell out of me. Finally he made a compromise that he'd release me from the contract, no strings attached, as long as I just stayed until the next pay-per-view. He promised he'd come up with some really spectacular match for me and Mark to have. 

So I stayed for a while, against my will, making all my wrestling stiff and making my head go through all kinds of things that I wasn't ready to deal with. This was probably how that descent of character happened with me, how it started. Just me being traumatized. I felt like a whore, just there for ratings…no one _really_ cared if I stayed or not. And I didn't know how to deal with all that abuse, right on top of all the other shit. As a defensive mechanism I just began to shut down.

Raven really cared about me, I could tell. Perhaps he was the one person who protested my leaving again, maybe he was afraid that if I wasn't around where he could basically watch out for me I would hurt myself again. But I was changing. It got to the point where it only angered me that he wanted to around, that he cared about me. I felt crowded by that, and didn't understand. I didn't want to get close to him, I couldn't do any of that anymore, I couldn't handle it. My head wasn't balanced, I felt afraid enough as it was in a friendship with Mark, and he was my brother. It was just easier for me to keep the focus on Mark and just kind of forget that Raven existed.

I had to shut myself down, I had to stop caring about people that I knew would eventually leave me. Amber left me, she was…she was my world. And I was trying so hard to feel better over it…eventually what happened was that I wasn't so much miserable, but it just all shifted to fear, and I couldn't handle it. And I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I _could_ do, just…let the coldness surround me. That's how people get the way they are…just…give up. Let the misery surrounding them just take over. And I let that happened, I let all the pain engulf me, lock me in my head, lock everyone away from me.  I didn't like doing that, I didn't _like_ the look on Raven's face when I just kind of looked at him but couldn't bring myself to have a conversation, I didn't _like_ the fact that I stopped calling Saphrin.

Mark was so cool about it though. He made it all bearable to survive the last couple of weeks before I left.

Raven and I had one conversation the whole last month. It made me so sad with myself for shutting him out but as soon as we were done I just continued doing it. I couldn't help it. 

He offered to give me a lift to the hotel from Raw one night, the two of us leaving before the show was finished. I didn't know the city that well, didn't realize right away that he was swerving around and taking detours so that he could talk to me. By the time I saw his scheme I was too broken to do anything about it. 

As we pulled out of the parking lot he asked: "Hey…remember that movie we watched? With Audrey and Humphrey Bogart and everybody?" It must've been easy for him to talk to me, staring at the road, not having to meet my eyes or something. He seemed all nervous.

"…_Sabrina_? Yes, I remember. What about it?" I wouldn't look at him either, so he's not really to blame.

"Remember right in the beginning? When Audrey like…turns on all the cars in the garage and wants to kill herself?" he asked. His hands tapped against the steering wheel nervously as he weaved in and out of the roads, driving all around.

"What about it?"

I turned my head to him when he didn't answer right way, I saw the crystals of tears forming in his eyelashes. "You uh…you aren't going to try that again, right?"

My heart quickened. "Huh?"

"Suicide, Kane…" he said. His mouth was tugging down into a frown, like what happens when you're trying not to cry. "You aren't gonna try to kill yourself again, are you?"

I looked down at the biker glove I wore on the burned hand, fingers pulling up the sleeve on my other arm just a little to look at the peak of one of the scars. "What, uhh…" my voice wavered, too. "What makes you ask?"

"Cause…" his forehead creased, he bit down on his lip, curled one of his hands in a fist and tapped it against the wheel a little. We coasted to a stop at a red light and he finally looked at me. "You've changed, Kane…"

He made me feel as guilty as I'd felt right after Amber died, when he'd told me how it wasn't fair that I was shutting everyone out. It was what I was doing again, though…Goddamit he made me feel like it was my fault, that I was being a prick. I couldn't fucking help it, no one seemed to understand that. 

"Why…why are you doing this?" he asked me. I turned away from him, held my head. 

"Raven…don't…"

"No, answer me, Kane," he was starting to get angry. The light turned green, he kept driving, put his eyes back on the road and gripped the wheel with both hands. "Fucking answer me. Why are you doing this? It's not fair."

"Because everything is fair," I mumbled in sarcasm. I felt the car speed up, grabbed the hand piece on the door, squeezing nervously. 

He turned a corner too quickly, the tired screeched. My heart jumped into my throat. "Stop it!" he shouted. Jesus Christ I was driving him crazy. I swallowed my fear, looked at him, saw then the tears that were rolling down his face despite how pissed off he looked. "Where do you get off doing this, Kane?"

Oh well fuck that. I couldn't believe he'd had the balls to ask me that. "Fuck you," I spat. "This has nothing to do with you, don't even get involved."

"WHAT?" he turned another corner, the car almost went out of control. He sped down the road we were on, some residential one, I don't even know if he knew where he was or what he was doing, was just going crazy. I felt scared of him, believe it or not. A red light came into view but he didn't slow down until the last second, the tires again screeching. "How can you say that?" he turned to me and shouted, staring right into my eyes.

The car was silent, so awkward, we were only like a foot or two away from each other as he just screamed. His voice just…melted into the silence, burned it. His eyes…I'd never seen them that way before. Tinged gold from his tears, yet so shadowed, so mixed between love and hate that they just looked distant. "HOW CAN YOU FUCKING SAY THAT!?" he screamed. I took in a little gasp of breath, startled at the sharpness of his voice. "What? What _KANE_? DID YOU JUST FORGET ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT WENT ON BETWEEN THE FOUR OF US!?"

He didn't keep driving when the green light came on, still just shouted at me, since I couldn't bring myself to answer him. I felt the tears coming but held them back, it was becoming almost an art to me, letting my expression go dull and not showing him what I felt. 

"Look! Look, Kane!" he was crying, I could hear it in his voice and see the tears flowing again. He pulled up his shirt sleeve, pointed at the scars on his arm. "Do you fucking remember this or did you forget that, too?"

I couldn't look away from it. Chills ran through my body, looking down at the skin of his forearm, pulled tight, interrupted by that slash of scar tissue. It was old now, had just gotten silvery, stuck out. My wounds were still fairly new, pink. He started shaking, I still couldn't answer him. 

"What happened to you?" he asked, wincing. I looked back up at him, he let the sleeve drop back into place. He calmed down a little, wiped the tears with the backs of his hands. "I do everything for you," he said softly, "what the hell happened?"

My throat went dry, hands started to sweat. How the hell was I supposed to tell him that it was just me being dysfunctional? Especially now that I knew it was hurting him this much…

"Don't tell me it was Amber…" he said. My heart skipped when I heard her name spoken. "I'm not the fucking one who killed her, Kane, you can't just take it out on me. You were doing so good, Kane…" he was shaking, crying again. "And now…what? Do you think you're the only person who cared she was gone? Do you know what the hell it was like for us at that hospital? When you were unconscious? All we could do was worry that we were going to lose you, too, Kane. And look at you- you're alive, but that doesn't mean a fucking thing to you, anymore, does it?" 

"I didn't forget," I said, nearly a whimper. "Why would I forget something like that, Scott?" I ignored the comment about being alive, it had struck something deep in me and I didn't know how to address it. 

Through closed teeth he breathed heavily, baring them, tears pooling in his eyes, begging to be shed. I couldn't detect whether he was more hurt or angry. Once neither of us were talking it fell silent again, both of us awkward and pained. He turned to the wheel, tears shaken out of his eyes when he moved his head, stomping down on the gas pedal. 

"You're as dead as she is," he hissed.

My heart ached. "No…" I said softly.

"Yes," he shouted. "Yes you are, Kane."

"Scott…" I stared at the road, the lines blurring by so quickly. "Slow down…" I said. I felt fear slowly building in my chest. 

"Fuck you," he shouted without having to think. A moment later he just said it again, shaking his head to himself. "Fuck you, Kane. Just…FUCK YOU!"

My heart pounded, the car went faster. "Please…" I said, just that one word, that one syllable. There was nothing else for me to say, that one little thing was begging enough for him to get what I was saying. "Stop it…" I didn't look at him, was only staring ahead at the intersection that was coming up, my hand reaching down without looking away to touch the seatbelt buckle, to make sure that it was buckled. I looked at Raven, saw that he was buckled in, too. As we neared the intersection he didn't slow down. And I realized:

_This is my fault_.

All these mistakes I'd made, they were coming back to me. I'd had no reason to ignore him, it hadn't been his fault but I'd taken out all the shit that was wrong in _my_ life on him. I looked at his face again, saw the tears streaming, his eyes dead, muscles all pulled tight and body stiff. Slowly I lifted my arms, shielded my head, and just waited, couldn't bring myself to look.

"I'm sorry," I said to him, not looking. 

Then he said: "No, you're not." 

Then the crash.

I was crying beneath my arms as we hit, before we hit, even, unable to translate everything he'd said, unable to hold it all in. He didn't make any sound, if he did it was hidden by the crash, which was all I could hear. Just…so loud, so deafening. Crashing and breaking and shattering…just _noise_. My body fell forward, snapped back by the seatbelt then padded by the airbag that flew out. Initially I didn't feel any pain, felt aware of what was going on, wondered if I was injured but was too shocked to notice. After all the noise ended I just felt heat, opened my eyes and lowered my arms, pushed the airbag away. My arm hurt, I looked down and saw the red, saw the pieces of glass that were sticking out of it, brushed them away with my opposite shaking hand, reached up to wipe the tears away and felt the blood on my face, then the glass in my scalp. I couldn't make sense of any of it, didn't understand why he'd done this to us, didn't get how my whole life was falling out from under me.

I turned to Raven, saw his arms folded over the steering wheel, over the puff of fabric from the deflated airbag, saw his head leaned down in his arms, saw his shoulder shaking with the sobs. I reached over and touched his shoulder, squeezing it for a moment before I tried opening my door. It was crushed a little, I leaned my wounded shoulder into it to make it open, then staggered out. Some people were already rushing over, some cars had stopped and the drivers were stepping out, staring. I hadn't seen what happened, the way they had. When I looked around I just saw the front of the car stuck on a tree, the back had been hit by another car, dented the whole side, broken then windows…that was how I'd been cut, I realized then. 

People were gathered around the other side of the car, hovering around his door, opening it and lifting him out. I looked at him, saw blood running down his face, didn't know how it had gotten there since I hadn't looked. They were all holding him up, he seemed dead on his feet, slumping over. I almost cried again, shoved away a couple of people who were trying to help me. 

He lifted his head really slowly, looked up and met my eyes. From the red all around his eyes were glowing, and so were the tear streaks that parted all the crimson. We stared at each other over the car for a moment before he fell, collapsed, the people all rushing over to catch him, make sure he wouldn't further injure himself. I tried to breathe, tried not to cry, tried to make sense of what was going on, tried to keep myself balanced by I found myself stumbling backward. I leaned against a different tree, slowly sank down to sit on the curb. Within minutes I heard the sirens, before they arrived I felt the pain start to throb. I groaned as I pulled my sweatshirt off, despite the fact that it was pretty cold out, let the glass caught in it fall down to the road. The bleeding wasn't so bad really, most of the cuts were pretty minor, the deal was that there were a lot of them. I shivered, reaching up, trying to brush glass out of my hair. It was fucking cold out. The sirens were getting closer, a squad car had shown up and started reporting what happened but not an ambulance or anything. The cop took a blanket out of the trunk of the car and told me to use it, but I didn't. I wiped blood away with it but didn't let it warm me.

I hated Raven so much at that moment, couldn't bring myself to pity him. I was just mad at him. And fucking freezing because of his mess, and because of mine. I hated both of us, really. 

As the ambulance showed up and started nearing it began to snow. Flurries, coming down and sticking to me. Two different ambulances came, I didn't need any help getting in but Raven was really out of it. I watched them help him up. He didn't need a stretcher or anything but could barely walk on his own. I wondered somewhere in my head if he was okay, the way I was okay. Just physically, though I knew neither of us would psychologically heal from this for a long time.

I sat down on the stretcher inside the ambulance, letting the medics do their work, slap on a couple of bandages and ask me what happened. I told them what I knew, that I saw we were going to crash and protected my head, didn't really see anything. They let me know right then that I wasn't going to need any stitches, but that I needed to go get checked out by a doctor, anyway. None of them would look me in the eye, most of them stared away from me and avoided looking at any of the scars. While I noticed this, I couldn't blame them, didn't do anything about it.

At the hospital I went in, ahead of anyone who was there waiting in the emergency room just because I'd come in with an ambulance, went to a triage room where they just made sure everything was okay. They gave me some pills to ease any pain, properly bandaged my arms, asked briefly about the cut scars on my one arm. Policies, I suppose. But I assured them that I was fine, and they said that it wouldn't be necessary to keep me, and so I left. As I was leaving, I passed another triage room, a different one, where I heard screaming in a familiar voice. I turned my head to see, and just saw Raven, on a bed, kicking and yelling at the doctors while they tried to settle him down. I saw them hold him down, try to get him in restraints as another one pushed a needle into his arm. I stopped, stared, gaped. I couldn't believe what had happened to him.

One of the nurses standing there had a bloody lip, I could guess that he'd punched her or something. She looked shocked, almost frightened, and looked up at me. She saw me staring and hastily closed the curtain around the bed. With nothing more for me to see I turned back and kept walking. 

At the pay phone I called a cab, not Mark. I wasn't ready for him yet, just called a cab and waited in the doorway for it to show up. I held my sweatshirt but didn't put it on, it was still all wet, not to mention that it was ripped, and that even if it was dry I thought that was quite disgusting. 

When it arrived I just told him the name of the hotel, not sure where it was, not even sure where _I_ was. I thought of Raven, kicking and screaming back in that building, how I was just leaving him there. My arm flared, and I thought: _Good. He deserves it_.

I can't lie. I did upset me, a lot, that I was this angry at him. I didn't want to be angry with him, he was my…friend? Were we still friends? God, I didn't know.

At the hotel, Mark was laying in bed watching TV. When I walked in a couple hours late he looked totally calm about it.

"Did you and Rave work everything out?" he asked me. Christ, it had been planned, hadn't it? I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned against the wall. It was dark, Mark couldn't see my condition.

I sighed. "Was that planned or something?"

Mark stared thoughtfully. "Yeah. He wanted to work everything out, he said he was really worried. So…? Did you guys talk and everything?"

It took me a moment to think of what to say. Finally I just went over and sat down on the other bed, turning on the lamp. Mark looked into my eyes, then down at the bandages on the right arm, then to the scars on my left arm, which had been relatively unharmed. His eyes widened incredibly.

"What the fuck happened?"

"He drove us into a fucking tree," I mumbled, then turned the light off. "And I'm pretty tired. I'm gonna go to bed."

"Kane!" he scolded. He turned the light back on, and I threw my hand up in front of my eyes to block out the brightness. "How can you just say that? Is he okay? Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm just peachy," I said.

Mark punched the side table in anger, the sound didn't phase me. I'd been through too much, the sound of the crash was still in my ears. "What about Scott? Jesus Christ, Kane! Is he okay?"

I shrugged. "Probably not. But he'll live."


	69. Just Hilarious

**Chapter 69**

In the morning Mark made me call Saphrin and tell her what happened. I didn't want to, I figured the hospital would've done it already and so why should I? But Mark made me feel bad about it, was saying that they probably wouldn't tell her much, that since she was now almost eight months pregnant she wouldn't be able to come out and see him. So finally I called, sometime late in the morning, not knowing what would happen. She sounded like she was already awake and about when I called, I heard Evan laughing in the background and knew she had probably been up all morning with him.

By the tone of light in her voice I knew she hadn't heard.

"Uhh…Saphrin?"

Could my life be any more battered?

"Kane? Hey, how've you been?" she sounded clam, not excited, probably thought I was finally making amends and didn't want to patronize me or something. She knew it would've scared me off if I was trying to overcome everything. While that was respectable, it wasn't the case.

"Uhh, fine, Saph," I said to her, just to be pleasant. But I didn't want to just chat, there were things I needed to tell her. I thought of when Amber died, when I wanted so badly to be the one to tell her because it wouldn't made it just a tiny bit easier, but when she and Raven came in to see me I just couldn't do it. "This is about Scott," I said to her.

Dead silence on the other end for a moment. "Umm…you haven't heard?" I asked her. She must've known it was serious since I hadn't called him "Raven".

"What's going on?"

"Saphrin…Scott and I were in a car accident last night."

She gasped. "Oh my God," her voice thickened, she sounded like she was going to cry, then like maybe she would pass out or something. "Oh my…_God_," she repeated. "Is he all right?"

I sighed. "Mostly? I don't know, really. I don't think he's physically injured, he was conscious at the accident and all, but then like…he was…" how should I word it? I paused. "Well I mean if there's anything wrong with him it's all in his head…"

"Kane," she said firmly. "What happened? Why are you saying that? Oh my God should I come?"

"No," I said quickly. "No, don't come. You're pregnant and all, don't worry yourself. Mark's gonna go to the hospital and see if he's okay, and I'll tell you."

"Why don't _you_?"

"Because."

"Because, what?" she demanded. I groaned.

"Saphrin he drove us into a tree-"

"So you're not going to talk to him?" she interjected. 

"-on purpose. I don't want to talk to him. I'm pretty pissed off actually."

She bit back a gasp again. "My fucking God, Kane, when are you going to tell me what happened!?"

"First- calm down," I told her. I could just see her throwing a tantrum with that huge swollen womb of hers. I didn't want her to hurt herself. I sat down on the bed, leaned back, rubbed my eyes. "Just sit down, relax, don't get all worked up about it, okay?"

"Kane, how can-"

"Saphrin!" I was scolding her. "Listen if you don't calm down you're going to hurt yourself, or your baby, and I don't want that happening and I don't think Scott would want that, either, okay? Just _sit down_ and listen to me for a second, okay?"

She sighed, paused for a moment. "Okay, okay. Tell me what happened."

I paraphrased it to just be nicer on her, didn't want her hearing the details of her insane lover. "We were driving, he started yelling at me, we got all heated at each other…and then he just…drove into an intersection, hit a tree, we were hit on the other side…"

"Are either of you hurt?" she sounded sincere and concerned. I liked that she cared about me.

"No," I said. "No, not really. I cut up my arm pretty bad but nothing serious. I got out of the car myself, and I watched some people help Scott. He was bleeding…on his head…" I was zoning out. It took me a moment to remember what was going on, and finished telling her. "And uhh…people were helping him out of the car but he was conscious, and then collapsed…he didn't need a stretcher or anything and got in the ambulance with some help…so I think he's pretty much okay…"

"Well then why is he still in the hospital? Why aren't you?"

"Because…" I closed my eyes and saw it again, and heard him screaming. "I don't know. He freaked out. I saw him screaming and trying to fight all the doctors…"

"Oh my God," she kept saying, and started crying. I felt kind of bad about it, at the same time felt so subdued and dead that the pain wouldn't register, I couldn't make the transition between the knowledge and the feeling. I knew she was hurting, it was a fact, I couldn't make myself feel it though.

"He's okay," I told her, trying to think of some white little lie to tell her. "Listen, he probably just hit his head and got disoriented, you know? Don't underestimate him, you know he's capable of things like that."

"I have to come see him," she choked out. "Please, Kane, will you go see him? I need to know…" she was sobbing. "I _need_ to know…please, Kane, for me? Go see him? I can't…"

The guilt was rising in my chest like a sickness. How could I saw no to her? "Listen, Mark is at the hospital right now, I can just wait for him to come back and then I can tell you what's going on, okay?"

"You want me to _wait_?" she whimpered.

"…Yes?"

"Kane!" she shouted. "Why can't you just do this for him? You're his _friend_! Please, Kane, you have no idea how much he hates hospitals, it'll make everything so much better…"

"But-"

"Why can't you just do this one fucking thing? For _me_?"

"You…you don't understand…"

"WHAT don't I understand? He's my fucking husband! Kane, of all the goddamn things I've done for you, you can't do this one thing?!"

She had a point. "Well what the hell do you want me to do?"

"Go talk to him! Apologize, I don't know!"

"Apologize?" the anger popped open inside me. "APOLOGIZE? _I'm_ not the one who decided to drive into a tree, Saphrin!"

"No," she snapped, "but _you're_ the one who broke his heart!"

Silence.

My heart pounded, skipped a beat. She didn't say anything, her crying had come to a halt but I could hear her breathing. I cursed her ability to read me so well. My hand squeezed the receiver, my arm shook a little.

"I have to go," I said coldly to her. We both hung up the phone at the same time.

In anger I started to tear the room apart, punching the walls, throwing the phone, smashing a lamp. I didn't care that I would have to pay for all of it, I wasn't thinking of that at the moment. I kicked one of the beds, tore the pillows apart, finally collapsing with a scream of anger. I ripped the bandages off my arm, looked down at the cuts and screamed again. Fucking Raven.

Hell no, I wasn't going to go see him. Saphrin was right, I did probably owe her, but…no way. No fucking way. 

My arm stung, not as badly as the suicide cuts at all, but…god. I hate him. I loved him, I was upset that he had done this to us. Bastard. If I was ever going to talk to him again I needed to give it time, avoid him until I wasn't angry with him anymore. I mean…give or take a couple of seconds, a few feet, either of us could be dead. Stupid fucking Raven.

After a while I picked myself up, walked into the bathroom to splash water on my face, to calm down. As soon as I got in there I lost my focus, seeing nothing by my reflection. I stared only for a moment before punching the mirror, in the dead center of my reflected face. The glass sliced up my knuckles but that didn't keep me from doing it again. When I could make nothing of the reflection other than a smeared mass I fell back, sat on the floor, leaned against the bathtub. 

I was bleeding all over myself.

I couldn't cry. There was something dry and hollow inside, that hurt me. I wanted to cry, just…couldn't. I didn't know what to do, staring down at my torn open knuckles, shaking. Where was Mark when I needed him? When would he come? Had he even known about the car accident before I'd told him? Had he felt it? Maybe not because I'd remained fairly calm through the whole ordeal…

Or was I losing him, too?

Fuck, my hand hurt so much, I could see slight bruises forming, though most of the blood had pushed out. I flexed my fingers, gritted my teeth against the sting. I needed help, though I knew I probably wouldn't ask for it. I just wanted Mark to show up and fix everything for me. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and just…asked for him. He would come- I would make him come. He had to, he must've felt it if I was _trying_ to get his attention, he got it all the time even when I wasn't doing it on purpose. He fucking _had to_ come. I could even feel the waves, pushing through my head, rippling out. He would come.

I was bleeding.

He would come, and I was bleeding. This is what I knew. Mark would fix everything, the way he always did.

I started getting dizzy, felt like I was going to pass out. Not because of the blood loss, I hadn't even lost that much blood. Just because of all the stress in my head, because of…_everything. _I let myself slip away as I lay there, zone out. My body never actually shut down, my mind was just gone, I was lost in catatonia when I heard Mark enter the room, burst through the door and come sit down beside me. I wasn't paying attention as he cleaned my hands, held a towel against them. It took me a while to come out of my head, to thank him, to realize what had happened. I was so lost in my thoughts that it hadn't even registered. 

When I opened my eyes, lifted them, locked on Mark's, I swore I could see past him, see huge black wings, made of immaculately dry feathers, spread out behind him. It was strange to see that. I closed my eyes for a moment, when I opened them they were gone, when I opened them I realized he was shaking me by the shoulders. 

"Mark…" I mumbled. 

"Are you okay?" he helped me up. It was morning still, he brought me into the disaster area of a hotel room and made me sit down on one of the beds. I told him I was fine, he told me to calm down. I asked about Raven.

"He's uhh…" Mark's eyebrows came together. "He's out of it, you know?" I nodded slowly.

"You should call Saphrin and let her know how he's doing…" 

"Why don't you?"

I groaned. "I don't want to talk to her."

He narrowed his eyes, didn't have to ask me why, sensed what I was feeling. Finally he shrugged. "Sure. Listen, I'll call her if you can get our things together and out to the car. We have to get going, you know?" I agreed, was packing up my things and his, cleaning up the room the best I could without having to fix anything I'd broken. Mark talked with Saphrin, I could hear what he was saying. 

"Hey sweetie," he said to her. "I just saw Scott…no, he was all disoriented…Kane? Yeah. …I think he'll be fine…well the thing is, he hit some orderlies and stuff, and they want to keep him for a while, and he might _need_ to be there for a while, too…uh-huh…" I'd had enough of it, didn't feel like listening to them, went into the bathroom to double-check that I'd picked everything up.

It's like that line, from that movie _Angel Heart_. No matter how cleverly you can sneak up on a mirror your reflection always looks you in the eye…

My reflection was cracked, even though they were split leveled and broken, my eyes still locked on each other, I still had to see them and realize what I'd done. I'd driven my two best friends out of my life, I'd driven Raven out of his mind. I didn't want to be causing damage, honestly, I didn't want to be hurting others as I'd been hurt. But…it wasn't my fault. Nothing was ever my fault! Life had just screwed me over so many fucking times…I almost punched the mirror again as I stared, taking a second to calm down, then rushing away, grabbing our bags, and heading for the parking lot.

I never went to visit Raven in the hospital, and I never called Saphrin again after that. I never really talked to anyone except Mark, and lived like a zombie until I was finally allowed to leave. 

The last match was at Armageddon, Vince's _brilliance_ decided that it should be an inferno casket match or some bullshit. Not just locking the opponent in the casket, but you had to set it on fire. How perfect. 

Actually, when I take a second to step outside my cynicism I know it was a pretty bitchin' match, that the fans really enjoyed it, that it was a good grand finale. But I don't want to admit that, I was pissed off and didn't even want any part in it.

Mark won, of course. I hated myself during the match, it was one of those few matches that made me _feel_ again, that really challenged me, got the blood pumping. Made me want to stay, so I got angry that I knew I wasn't. Stupid Kane, always unable to make up his mind, stupid Kane who gets attached to everything. The match went on for around a half hour, lots of technical wrestling, lots of hardcore. I got busted open a couple times, I gave Mark permission to hit me where I'd gotten cut in the car accident, so that it would open right up. I busted him open, too, hit him with the ring bell and split a line right down his forehead.  All the adrenaline was good, to feel that pain, then to see that I could do that to him. Inwardly I was kind of pissed at him, not anything specific, but it was one of those few times that I felt I could have vengeance for everything he'd ever done to me.

Fans don't realize that sometimes when Mark and I wrestle- we're really fighting. How couldn't we?

He locked me in the casket after a while, I pretended that I was unconscious after he hit me with the stairs. When he set it on fire I opened my eyes, felt my heart pounding. The heat was all around, yet all I could see was black, I could hear the flames cracking and also the crowd…I felt genuinely scared. To feel it and not see it was something I'd never felt before, and didn't enjoy that. No masochism made me enjoy it. 

Afterward, backstage, everyone was saying goodbye to me, congratulating me and Mark on the match, saying that I'd had a great career. A few asked if this was really the end, if I would ever come back. I didn't answer, because I really didn't know. But just then I needed to be alone, I wanted to go home, I wanted to just sleep and calm down.

I went to the apartment, by the time I got there it was two or three in the morning. It had started to snow, I was cold, depressed, sore, when I got inside. The place was so empty…

I slept alone, woke up feeling sore still from the match, filled with bitterness when I looked out to see the snow. It was almost Christmas…

Like our anniversary, I thought. A time when I would buy them presents. That was when all of this had started, when I tried to kill myself, when I got worse- then got better. When everything got fucked up even worse. Even though I knew it had screwed my head up the previous time I was wondering if I should get them Christmas presents…

For most of the morning I was in bed, got up around noon or so. No matter how much time I had spent in the apartment or how long it had passed since what happened, I still wasn't used to how empty it was, how cold, how silent. It didn't make any sense, any of it. 

On Christmas I visited their graves, even though there was snow on the ground. I brushed the snow off of the headstones, froze my ass off as I stayed there for a while, talking to them, telling them that I loved them, and Merry Christmas, and about random shit. Also stood by Roman's grave for a moment, wondered if the androgynous person celebrated. Didn't matter, I was just amusing myself with stupid things.

As I was leaving I passed Lydia's grave, stopped there for a moment, staring. Obviously I'd never met her, but I loved her. I loved her because I knew she must have been as beautiful as her daughter, I loved her because if it weren't for her, I would've never had Amber. Even if Amber had caused all my pain in a way, I wouldn't have given anything up for her. The time I'd had with her meant more to me than life itself.

Mike must've been lonely, too.

We were both in the same situation, kind of. Yet neither of us were open about it, neither of us talked much, neither of us extended a hand to the other. We never really talked to each other, every now and then ran into each other here or there and said hello…

I hadn't realized what I was doing until I found myself at the door of his apartment, knocking. When he opened the door he looked so aged, so tired. He found it in himself to smile, welcome me in, offer me a drink. The table was set for one in the dining room, next to the window, a glass and a bottle of wine on the table. He was so much more graceful about all of it than I was.

He set a place for me, served food, poured me a glass of wine. We didn't say much to each other but I knew we both appreciated the company. Finally, after drinking all the wine between us, after finishing eating, after the sun had gone down and we were filled with silence, he said:

"How've you been holding up?"

I laughed out of nervousness. "Not too good, how about you?"

He laughed too, creasing forming near his eyes, eyes filling with tears even though he was chuckling. "Horrible."

We talked about our wives and about our daughters, he talked about his granddaughter and I told him a little about my mother. There we were- two miserable men who'd seen nothing but loss, who were laughing at how pathetic they were. The more we talked about how sad it all was, the funnier it became, the more bottles of wine he popped open, the drunker we got, the funnier it was that all the people in our families were dead. Of all the times I'd hung out with him and Amber, we'd never been this jovial. 

After a couple of hours we were both drunk, both talking about it, him telling me about when Lydia died, me telling him about when I found Amber. It was hilarious, I was laughing hysterically when I told him about how I walked into the kitchen and fell onto my knees. He told me how hysterical it was when he almost set his house on fire when Lydia died. As funny as it all was, as much as we were both laughing, we were both crying also.

I spent the night there, in the morning we had breakfast, neither of us really talking, not mentioning our conversation from the night before. After that I went home and never talked to him again.

At home it was quiet, that's the only way I could describe it. I pretty much just worked out and watched television, talked to Mark on the phone. Now and then I would go shopping, buy clothes and waste money just to pass the time, go grocery shopping, buy new CDs to listen to while I worked out cause I got tired of all the ones I already owned. I had nothing to do, I was bored. Mark came over a few times when he was in the area, I made sure to watch Raw for him every week. 

When February came around I was shocked, hadn't really realized how long had gone by until I turned on the news one morning and saw the date. Pathetic, isn't it? That I didn't even know what day it was. When I saw that day it had been February 7th. A fucking week until…

I freaked out, couldn't breathe, broke down and cried for a while. I did all kinds of exercises to calm myself, tried to pull off some breathing techniques that Mark had showed me. Finally I called him on the phone, cried to him for a while. He consoled me, told me to relax, that it would be rough but that I would live through it. After talking me down for a while I felt better. I tried to hold onto his words for the next few days.

On the night of the ninth I couldn't sleep. I didn't end up sleeping, on the tenth I went out and bought roses. I brought the roses to her grave, left them in the snow, tried not to cry because it was so goddamn cold and that would've only made it worse.

Being there made my whole body hurt, just thinking about all this shit, knowing that it had been almost a _year_ made me lose my balance. When I got home I called Mark.

"Everything okay?" he asked when he answered the phone. I wasn't crying, but was probably about to, my stomach was in knots and I felt like I would vomit.

"Mark…umm…" I rung my hands, paced around. "Can I stay with you for a couple days? I don't want to be alone," I told him. Similar to what I'd said to Saphrin, no? With Mark it was much different, though, he understood inside and out. 

"Oh, Kane…" he sounded as pained as I was. "Yeah. I'll get some time off. You go right ahead, I'll get there as soon as I can, okay?"

When we hung up the phone I felt strangely at peace, yet so frightened. I probably broke a handful of traffic laws trying to get to the airport, so frantic, feeling incomplete. I felt scared to be by myself.

Almost a fucking year.

I didn't want to be alone.


	70. Plastic Masochism

**Chapter 70**

I beat Mark to his house only by a couple of hours, and let myself in with one of the keys he'd given me, made myself at home and just waited. I felt really empty, shaky, didn't really know what to do so sat down in his living room and waited, and thought about things. Just everything, about how I couldn't account for much of the specific time that had passed because it all seemed to bleed into one generic memory, about how the things I did remember stuck out so clearly in my head. I went from one nervous habit to the next, putting little braids in my hair and then taking them out, cracking my knuckles, cleaning out my fingernails and then biting them off. Chewing on my lip, pulling the chapped skin away, tracing the lines of scars on my arm, all the grooves that the burns made.

When he walked in he just smiled at me, then came in and sat down, left his bag on the floor and tended to me first thing. I stood to greet him, we shared a lasting hug that I needed before we reseated on the couch.

"You okay?" he asked me. I played with fraying strings on my shirtsleeve.

"How do you get so much time off? Does Vince just love you?" I asked him, instead of answering.

"I've got a lot of leeway cause I've been around for a while, you know?" 

I shrugged. "I dunno, he just seems like…overly nice with you. Do you spellbind him?"

Mark looked away, his smile fading. "Yeah," he admitted, and tried to laugh. I laughed a little.

"I hate when you do that."

"I know."

"How do you do it, anyway?"

"What? Spellbind?" 

"Yeah, how do you do it?" I asked. I turned to him. Mark looked up at me and gave me a strange look, cocking his eyebrow up. 

"Well…shit, I don't know. You can't really control it," he made a little gesture with his hand, raising a fist, letting his fingers uncoil in the air, "it just kind of…happens. You want to happen, and then it does. There's not much more to it than that."

"So why doesn't everything that you want to happen just happen?"

"Because…" he sighed. "Kane, I'm nearly forty years old. I've learned to control it, you know? When you have a power like this, you can't let it take control of you or it'll ruin your life."

"Oh," I paused. Neither of us said anything for a moment.

"You hungry?" he asked. I nodded, he stood up, gestured for me to come with him into the kitchen. "I probably don't have much here, but we could go out if you want…"

We stepped into the kitchen, he turned the light on and started rummaging through the cabinets. I pulled the refrigerator open. Beer, a loaf of bread, more beer, salad dressing… I laughed and closed it, Mark groaned from the other side of the room as he pulled out a few cans of non perishable food. He tossed me a can of spinach. 

"I don't suppose you want a meal comprised of nothing but canned vegetables?" he laughed and I shook my head. Mark sighed, pulled the pony tail out of his hair and shook it loose. "Eh, alright. Let's go out."

We went out to dinner, a little restaurant near his house where everyone treated him like a god. He'd brought me and Amber there once, I remember. They asked us to sign autographs and they were hanging on the wall. Two framed pictures, lined up next to each other in the lobby. One was of Mark, "THE UNDERTAKER" scribbled over his chest. The other picture was a studio picture of me and Amber, her grinning, me solemn beneath the mask, my arms around her protectively. I almost cried when I saw it, the blocky, childish letters I used to sign autographs, her rounded perfect cursive. Mark patted my shoulder, made me come into the dining room and made me stop staring at the picture. 

As we were eating he was trying to just bullshit, keep my mind off of everything. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked.

"I don't know…"

"While I'm in town I wanna run a couple errands, you wanna come?"

"Sure…"

He sighed and put his fork down. I had mashed everything on my plate into a little pile, after seeing the picture too nauseated to want to eat, just playing with everything. "Kane…?"

I looked up at him. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I chuckled. "You really need to ask?"

He leaned his elbow on the table, hand reaching up into his hair. "Well, yeah because of Amber. But come clean with me now, what's…specifically bothering you?"

"The picture," I mumbled. I looked down at the mess I'd made on the plate, my hand shaking for a moment before the fork clattered down onto the table. I covered my face with my hands. My head was throbbing. "It's not fair."

"I know it's not."

My hands parted so that I could look at him. "Is that all you can say?"

He shrugged, took a sip of his drink. "What do you want me to say, then?"

My lip started to quiver. _Oh God, not now_, I was saying, not too excited by the idea of breaking down in public. "Just…make it all better, Mark…isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Earlier when I'd asked him about spellbinding he said it just…happened. I'd been spellbound by him before, usually didn't enjoy it, this time I didn't mind. His eyes focused on mine, expression saddened. He reached across the table and took my hand, squeezed it, and I felt everything fade. Things lasted this way for a few hours, after we'd gone back to his house. He gave me a beer and we sat back down in the living room.

"Do you have photo albums?" I asked him. I don't know what made me think of it, I was just wondering. He gave me a strange look. 

"Why?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, drank down some of the beer. "Just curious. I mean…I know Mom had a bunch, I guess they burned with the house, right?" he nodded. "But I just…I don't have any pictures of her. Do you have any?"

He stared at me, trying to read me or something. Finally he said, "Yeah, I do." 

For some reason I'd expected him to say no, and nearly choked on the drink. "You do? How?"

Mark nodded. "I uhh…" his eyebrows came together, he looked really pained. "I grabbed a couple things, before what happened. I never told you cause I knew you'd be angry with me."

True, true. But this was too important for me to get pissed over. "Well?"

"What?"

"Let me see them!"

"Oh," he gave me a weak smile and stood, walking out of the room for a minute. I was going to wait for him but became impatient, and finally just stood up and went after him. The hallway was dark, the light came from his bedroom. I went in there and sat on his bed, watched him look through his closet. From the top shelf he pulled down some shoe boxes, some random wrestling gear and stuff. Way in the back he finally took out a small metal box, which he held for a moment, staring at it, before turning around. He sat down next to me, stared at the box some more, and finally did the little combination on the front to open it.

There were several photographs, and a piece of a brick or something, and a few envelopes. I reached to take some of the things out and Mark pulled back defensively. 

"Hey!" I snapped. I looked up to glare at him and saw that his eyes were glassy. 

"Wait," he said. "I want to explain," he said. I softened, nodded, leaned back. He put the box down, pointed at the envelopes. "I don't like to umm…touch any of it," he said. I cocked my eyebrow. "I get these really strong vibes from them, and it hurts…" 

I took the envelopes out. He explained. "Those are uhh…one of them is this birthday card that Mom gave you, I took it with me…" it sounded like there was more that he wanted to say, but didn't. I saw the one of the top, really elegant writing that said "Kane" on it. It had this airiness to it, loopy and tilted and tight. My heart was in my throat as I opened it, pulled the card out. She'd made it, it was a folded piece of thick paper, drawn on with colored pencils or something. It was a picture of a boy wearing a party hat, with a balloon…I laughed a little, through the tears that were forming in my eyes. I opened it, saw the same pretty handwriting that said "To the greatest son in the world- Happy Fourth Birthday!" 

All I could say was "Had I been able to read that young?" 

Mark smiled. "Yeah… I guess you forgot all that shit once the fire happened, when we were with Paul…"

I put that one away. Mark explained the one in the middle. "That one is a thing you wrote me once, you probably don't remember, but we got in a fight, and-"

"Mom made us write sorry notes to each other," I finished for him. It was true, I had forgotten all about it, but now I saw it in my hand and it all made sense, I remembered it clearly. "Oh my God, Mark," I said to him. "This is crazy…why didn't you ever tell me that you had this?" I was too shocked and kind of happy to have these things to get mad at him, but I knew that I would get pissed if I was given enough time.

"Because," he said, and scratched his chin. "I didn't know how to just…come out and say it. I mean how do you just strike up a conversation and say 'Hey! I have a box full of shit from when we were kids that I've been hiding from you!'? You can't. I guess…when we were both out of Paul's reach it had been so long…I didn't know how to make the bridge, you know? And the longer it got, the harder it was for me to tell you. But then…you asked. So…I'm showing you now."

"Has this bothered you?"

He smiled. "Yeah…I think about it all the time."

I couldn't help but to laugh. "Did you spellbind me? Is that why I asked?"

"Probably," he was laughing, too. We laughed for a moment, then I looked back down at the envelope. MARK was scratched into it, childish, pointy handwriting. I laughed again as I opened it, pulled out the stale piece of loose-leaf. The same childish handwriting covered the page, me writing to him about how I was sorry I called him ugly, and that he isn't actually ugly, and he's my brother and I love him. At the bottom it said "Love, your brother Kane". After reading it I started to laugh hysterically.

"It's not _that _funny," he mumbled. But I couldn't stop. And it wasn't sarcastic laughing as I'd laughed with Mike. I meant it, it was _funny_. And I felt happy, thinking of back then when nothing was wrong, the same why I could be happy for a moment when I thought of the good times with Amber. 

"Mark- you're ugly!" I shouted, and pointed at him, falling back on the bed in hysterics and holding my stomach. It was so funny! Just showed the kind of woman our mother was, who made her sons write apology notes to each other when they argued, when one of them called the other one ugly. That's some funny shit, let me tell you. 

Of all fucking things to be upset over. I'd called him ugly.

Jesus Christ it even makes me laugh a little now. 

Eventually Mark started laughing too, though was a little distracted. I knew it was really painful for him…it was for me, too, but I guess…well everything is painful for me, isn't it? Mark isn't as used to that. 

"The last one is just umm…" he paused for a moment, his face got hard. My heart pounded, almost afraid to read it. I looked at it before he could tell me, saw in his handwriting the name "Kane" on the front. I started to turn it over and open it when he took it from me. 

"What the hell?"

Mark's hands were shaking. I'd never seen him this way, it made me nervous, not sure if I wanted to know what was inside the envelope. At the same time I was curious. He looked like his was in physical pain when he held it, I remembered what he said about getting vibes. It must've been really hurting him because it fell out of his hand a moment later. 

"What is it?"

"I uhh…" he covered his face in his hands. "After I left Paul I sat down and wrote you this letter, apologizing for everything, and trying to explain it to you…but…"

"I never got it," I mumbled.

He sighed. "I know you didn't. I never had the balls to give it to you."

"And you still don't?"

For a moment he didn't answer. Finally he said: "No, I don't. In time, Kane. Not now. Anyway…I also have this brick-" I wasn't amused that he changed the subject, but didn't say anything "-is from the house, I took it a couple weeks after the fire," he told me, and pointed. If the envelope would've hurt him I didn't want to know what the brick would've made him feel. And I didn't want to touch it, either. Relics from childhood were one thing but that was drawing the line. I reached into the box and took out the pictures, which he didn't need to explain to me.

The first one was of our father. 

Neither of us were ever really close with him. I've probably made that quite clear because I talk mainly about my mother when our parents come up. It wasn't that I didn't love my father or anything, by default kids that age are supposed to. But…he was just really distant, spent a lot of time working, dabbled in dark magic and experimented with it all the time…maybe that was why Mark had his power or something. 

In the picture he was leaning against a column in the front of the house, the part that was open to public, the funeral parlour. The color had that watered down color that photos from that time have, kind of subdued. He was wearing black pants, a buttoned up white shirt with the sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. I didn't remember him as specifically as Mother, but now I saw the striking resemblance that Mark had with him. In the picture his arms were crossed over each other, and he was looking down at the ground, so that I couldn't see his eyes. I don't know if he knew the picture was being taken or not, I couldn't tell. His hair was short, not buzzed down or anything, the strands each three or four inches at most. Curly, like mine, darker than mine though, kind of Mark's color, all of it falling out of place around his face. A cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth, just by the appearance of his limbs I could tell he was tall.

"You look like him," I said. I took another glance before flipping to the next picture. 

My mother.

She looked like Venus, that's the only thing I could describe her to. Botticelli's Venus, only…younger, happier. Long curly red hair, bright eyes. Her eyes looked blue in the pictures, and again I was hit with memories. Her eyes had been gray, kind of. Gray, absorbing colours really easily. Sometimes they were more blue, sometimes more green. Every now and then gold. Often, though, they were green like Mark's.  

I saw Claudette in her, the same shape of their smiles. I flipped to the next picture to save myself from breaking down, but just saw something even worse.

It was me. In Mom's lap. 

The tears rushed me, I dropped the pictures down on the bed and jumped back like they were some plague, standing up and stumbling, falling down on the floor. Mark didn't move to help me, and didn't look surprised, just soft, sad, looking at me with a regard of empathy. I couldn't get the image out of my head, me when I was little, unscarred, laughing, happy. And Claudette looked just like I had, the same face almost. I started to sob, for Claudette, for Amber, for my mother, for my face…

Mark stood up to help me, before he got to me I got up and stormed out of the room, into the room I used whenever I was there, slamming the door behind me. I collapsed on the bed, hopeless. I hated him. I fucking hated him for setting the house on fire, if he hadn't done that none of this would've happened. Or he could've done it right and finished the job, then I wouldn't have anything to complain about it. 

My suitcase was in the living room but I didn't want to leave the room and have to face Mark. I looked at the digital alarm clock, it was only eight. My body stung, a lot of shit had happened that day. I'd gone to their graves, taken a plane there, hung out with Mark, went out to dinner…and now this. 

There was a stereo in the room, I walked over to it curiously to see if any CD's were in it, maybe one that I'd forgotten to take after I'd stayed with Mark from when I got out of the hospital or something. I tapped the button to open the disc tray, made it revolve to see if any of the slots were filled. 

One in six.

Nine Inch Nails. The Fragile. Left.

I smiled and pushed play. I went back to the bed and lied down, knowing that it was some fate, that this was the one piece of plastic that had the perfect fifty five minutes to cater my masochism.


	71. For All We Could Have Done

A/N!! Hey ducks…my internet's not working right so I've been typing on my computer, and posting on a different one, so I didn't get a chance to check if all the lyrics I used in this chapter are correct…but you can forgive me, no? :P (P.S. For those of you who don't know me and don't talk to me and all- I'm almost done with the story- PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! XD XD)

**Chapter 71**

I must've fallen asleep, before the first song was even over. For the first time since the hospital I had a nightmare, and not to do with the Mer de Noms songs, I was way past that. But…with what I was listening to. Fifty five minutes of masochism suddenly became a fifty five minute horror vision. 

Through the songs I was doing different things, different things were going on, yet I remembered all of them clearly, they all seemed to take forever.

During Somewhat Damaged I was fighting with Amber, we were shouting at each other, throwing things at each other. Claudette was older, Armand was there, too, maybe four or five years old, looking exactly like I had looked in the picture. Claudette was shielding him, standing halfway in a doorway watching us. I don't know if Amber saw her or not, both of us were ignoring her and continued yelling. It was just the way the parents of most families acted today, fights happening that never existed in our lives together. When I thought about it, I realized that the only fights Amber and I had ever gotten into were over trivial things. And this fight, in the dream…it was about her dying.

And I could hear Trent singing, and I was screaming along with him.

"HOW COULD I- EVER THINK- IT'S FUNNY HOW EVERYTHING YOU SWORE WOULD NEVER CHANGE- IS DIFFERENT NOW- LIKE YOU SAID- YOU AND ME- MAKE IT THROUGH- DIDN'T QUITE- FELL APART- WHERE THE _FUCK_ WERE YOU!?"

I could never imagine saying something so harsh to her, but it was so true. I meant it so badly, it made me so angry with her. 

But the next song changed all of that. Somehow the anger got geared all different ways, the scene changed, I was with Mark, we were in our old house, staring at each other. Trent was calmer this time, the music went back and forth being calm and turbulent. _I'd listen to the words he'd say but in his voice I heard decay. The plastic face forced to portray all the insides left cold and gray. There is a place that still remains, it eats the fear, it eats the pain. The sweetest price he'll have to pay- the day the whole world went away…_

Mark is trying to consol me, but I keep shoving him, I'm screaming at him but not forming any words, singing with the song again just like the first sequence of the dream with Amber. Mark looks so hurt, he's holding his stomach, looking at me like I've deeply betrayed him. I don't know why I'm so angry, I just feel it there, and I'm crying.

Then it stops.

Then comes the piano. 

The Frail, Amber's favorite song. Even while I'm unconscious I remember this, remember that she loved the song, remember that we used to put it on repeat and dance around to it, or kiss, or just talk for hours while it played. It was so melancholy, so delicate, so _frail_. So cryptic, so scared. The song is a million things, that's what's so brilliant about it. Yet so simple, too. 

For those few seconds I'm standing at the edge of an ocean, except there are no waves. It's like a lake, that calm, that clear, only huge, dark. An ocean. The skies are gray, the water is dark blue and threatening. I feel drawn to it, start walking towards it…as I am, the piano gets harder, other music kicks in…

"_Just a reflection, just a glimpse, just a little reminder…of all the what abouts, and the might have/could have beens. Another day, some other way, but not another reason to continue…now you're one of us…the wretched…_"

The water was frigid, didn't move around me, just like a lake again, calm, blatantly liquid, didn't move the way an ocean did. It was pulling me in though, no undertow, no waves, just…something was beckoning me. I heard the music all around me as if the sky were just a big speaker, and went waist-deep into the water, standing there, staring up at the gray clouds.

I felt like it was a god yelling at me. "**_Didn't turn out the way you wanted it to. Didn't turn out quite the way that you wanted it! NOW YOU KNOW THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE! NOW YOU KNOW THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE!_**"

I started crying, and was pulled under the water, the ground vanishing, so that I kicked and couldn't feel it beneath me, couldn't stand up. The music sounded warped, like speakers in the water. I opened my eyes, couldn't see anything but blackness, kicked and reached for the surface and couldn't find it. I would've cried if I hadn't been already underwater, didn't know what to do. 

Finally I gave up. It all went black. 

We're in This Together played after that, I didn't remember that dream as clearly, something about Mark helping me. Confessing things to me which made me want to kill him, but then I forgot what they were. Not just by the end of the dream, either. It was like…he would be telling me something, and as he was speaking I would understand everything he was saying before he got three words out, but then I would block all of it out of my head because I didn't want to believe it, and then I would accuse him of lying, and we'd start fighting. We're in This Together- the song I'd heard with Kitten in the car, the song that Mark and I were arguing over. 

IIIIIIII'VE BECOMMMMMMME IMPOSSIBLE! 

Everything was so crazy. Finally Mark grabbed me by my shoulders and screamed at me, with Trent. "_Youuuuu and me, we're in this together now! None of them can stop us now! We will make it through some how! You and me- if the world should break in two, until the very end of me, until the very end of you…_"

I started to cry, and he let go of me…and I started to fall…I don't know what was happening. When I opened my eyes, the title song of the album was playing, and there were gears all around me, people pushing them, faceless, chains dragging on the ground with the lilt of their steps. I wound up bound, and when I tried to move I saw the same chains holding me down. The more the people walked around me, the harder they pulled on my limbs, but rather than stretching me, they just reopened my wounds, made my arms bleed, made my arm shrink into the burn scars, and hurt as much as they did when they were first inflicted. They were all singing, without mouths, the sound just coming from them, faces all holes, blackened depressions in the middle of their heads. 

They sang all around me, walking in circles, their heads turned towards me as if they were staring but without the eyes to do it with. 

_She shines in a world full of ugliness. She matters when everything is meaningless. Fragile- she doesn't see her beauty. She tries to get away. Sometimes it's just that nothing seems with saving- I can't watch her slip away_. 

I WON'T LET YOU FALL APART. I WON'T LET YOU FALL APART. I WON'T LET YOU FALL APART. I WON'T LET YOU FALL APART.

_She reads the minds of all the people as they pass her by, hoping someone will see… If I could fix myself I would, but it's too late for me…_

I was seeing when Amber and I first met, through someone else's eyes, seeing myself, in my mask and the Undertaker shirt, walking over to her, making conversation as she seemed so fucking sad. Finally I made her laugh, brought her out on the floor, started dancing with her. In the dream we were dancing to The Fragile, not the song that had actually been on at the time, for a moment of serenity we were singing it to each other. 

But then…the guitar came in, the same tune as the one in the Frail that we both loved so much, and I was dragged back to the place with the chains, and the gears. I started to scream. It hurt so badly, I didn't know where I was, at the moment I didn't know that I was dreaming. I was so scared, I didn't know what was happening, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I didn't know where Amber was. 

Mark woke me out of the sleep.

The next song was on, the perfect background to the situation, continuing from the dream so that I didn't know if I was actually awake. I'd only been sleeping for like a half hour, Mark was standing over me asking if everything was okay, saying that I'd been screaming. 

"Go away," I mumbled, still angry at him. He looked hurt, and stared for a moment before actually listening. After he left I locked the door behind him, sat back down on the bed and drew my knees up to my chest, staring at the stereo as the CD continued. It all went by in a blur.

DO YOU KNOW HOW FAR THIS HAS GONE?  
JUST HOW DAMAGED HAVE I BECOME?  
WHEN I THINK I CAN OVERCOME   
IT RUNS EVEN DEEPER

I wasn't dreaming but spacing out, even though I wasn't asleep after that I could just see everything in my head. It seemed so simple, like such an afterthought…was my life that? Was my life just some higher power's postscript? They forgot to include me, shoved me in there at the last second, left it up to me to fix everything, try to hold on even though I've never had anyone who stayed with me long enough to help me through it. That was all I ever needed…just _someone_ to be there for me…

Why couldn't He just realize that?

It was so easy to point all the pain, all the anger, all the fear on God. I didn't even believe in the bastard, but if it meant I had someone to blame I was more than willing to acknowledge him. 

My whole life was just some fucking joke. I wasn't meant to stick around the way I did…I should've died in that fire. I've told Mark that so many times…sometimes he would get really upset, and shocked, and say something like: "Don't you ever let me hear you say something like that ever again…", sometimes he would be angry with me and say "Yes! Yes, you should've, you wretched fuck," in those times when we hated each other, times that I've never spoken of because I don't have the courage to. I don't care how horrible he's been to me, we've made amends, I love him so much. And it hurts to have some one-sided love, it really does. And that's all my life has been, some stupid reflection, me loving everything around me and no one loving me back.

That was what turned me into such a ghost. That's what I was back then. That's what I was four years ago, I was just there. A ghost- you don't know if they're real, you can debate on it but in the end- do you even fucking care? Who cares? A ghost- you see one and get frightened, you know of a poltergeist and pretend you're deaf. 

No one gave a shit about me. People didn't care about me, people didn't extend any kind of kindness to me…I don't think there's really been anyone in my life who could just ask me what happened to my face. I mean, yes, I'm sensitive about it, I'll admit that, it's pretty obvious that I am. But I don't know what's worse, feeling scared or embarrassed that people are going to laugh at me like they did when I was younger, or that they'll just avert their eyes from me and pretend I'm nothing. It's so much more easier for people to deal with if there's no conflict. So they turn away from me, they address me staring at my chest, they don't look into my face while they're talking…

My life didn't mean a thing. My vitals were just some rag doll being tossed around amidst all the misery, something hanging on for dear life…maybe while all of them were toying with my mind and slowly but surely _fucking up my head beyond repair_, I was toying with how long I could survive like that. My life didn't mean _a fucking thing_. At all! What did I have to live for? Mark? Fuck no, Mark was never a constant in my life. One second he was being cool, another he would be screaming at me telling me he should've started the fire on my fucking bed.

Nice guy, really.

I try not to think of those times, they get me upset, they make me angry with him. I try to put all of it behind us, try to remember that he's apologized, that he's said there have been demons in his head making him say those things to me and that he never meant any of it. Is that true? I'll never know. I don't fucking care anymore, either.

I had nothing to live for back then, for so long. But you see…when you're so dead on the inside, it doesn't matter if you're alive on the outside. Because you can't feel anymore. It just gets to the point where everything is the same, when you just feel your heart beating, when you can sit down and sit still and _feel_ blood running through your veins, feel like some kind of poison is rushing through your body.

But that doesn't mean you're any more alive than one buried in the ground. Back then I was more dead than Amber is now, she's remembered, she's loved. That's more alive than I ever was back then.

You die within, it kind of corrodes your insides, works its way through your intestines, weaves in and out of your organs, yet somehow can never break through…if it would, those razor sharp claws would just tear out of your stomach, leave you bleeding…then you'd be physically dead. But that never happens, it's not possible. 

Everything in this world has to be done on your own.

When you get down to it…you're the only person you can ever trust.

Ever.

Is that what screwed me up so badly? Often I ask myself why- after everything I went through, after all the abuse I've endured, after one tragedy after the next- I'm such a nice guy, still. Well…not anymore. I know I've done some pretty mean things to Raven and Saphrin, I pushed them away from me because I was afraid, the same way I pushed a lot of the guys backstage away from me just because I didn't want to get involved with them. It's nothing personal, it's really no one's fault, but…maybe that was my one glitch. My _curse_, my _meaning_, is that I'm too fucking nice. And I've always been too fucking nice.

Put anyone else through what I've gone through and they'd come out a criminal, a cold-hearted bastard, some kind of maniac. I might be crazy…but I don't make it so blatantly clear. I don't think being miserable and having these feelings make me crazy.

But me? Everything just humbled me. Because I trust people- because when Paul told me horrible things I **believed** him, because I had faith in Mark when he would say that no one would ever love me.

If my flaw was being too nice, Mark's was that he underestimated me. Because you know what? Someone DID love me, goddamit. 

I'm so confused, you have no idea. All these things I scold myself for…I'm just confused, because maybe I did hurt myself more because I was too nice about everything, maybe I did screw myself over for being a stupid little naïve kid who believed everything everyone ever told him. But if I hadn't done that- I never would've met her. And I never would've known what it was like to love her, and to be loved, and to be happy.

Is it just another joke that it didn't last? Tell me. Humor me now, because I don't think things will get any worse, or any better, and there's no reason why I shouldn't laugh at myself for being such a moron.

Amber was so perfect. I met her and right away I just…_knew_. I don't know how, it was just something I felt, like she was special. But I was right, wasn't I? We were brought together, I always thought it was fate. There was some reason that I looked up at that one split second when there was that parted line of sight in the dance floor, a reason why it was that very moment that she was revealed to me, that she looked so sad, that I had the balls to go talk to her. 

She made me feel so _alive_. And she loved me. And she was the one person who ever thought I was beautiful. She touched my face, touched my scars without repulsion, was the first person since the fire that made me think of my mother, who was probably the only person I love as dearly as my wife.

The only thing Paul ever told me that I didn't believe was……

Of all the things I've admitted this has been the hardest.

He said: "You're so ugly, your mother would cry if she saw you now. Forget it, Kane, she wouldn't love you anymore."

How old was I? Seven? Eight? That was the first time since it happened that I'd seen a mirror, just because he felt like torturing me. I was as shocked to see it as everyone else was, I guess. He told me that my mother wouldn't love me. I can't fathom what goes on in his head that could make a person so cruel. But that was the one thing he ever told me that I never believed.

It takes people years of therapy to get over that shit. I never had therapy. I had to get here on my own, that's probably why I'm so weak, I had to just realize that he was lying, slowly strain all of his words out of my head. Amber helped me, she was so beautiful, she loved me so much…

EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS IS GONE  
ALL THE HANDS OF HOPE HAVE WITHDRAWN  
COULD YOU TRY TO HELP ME HANG ON?  
IT RUNS…

It's funny the way I work. I'm stupid, I think that's what the bottom line is. I get fucked over, yet I trust people anyway. And then I get fucked over again, and I say I'll stop trusting people…then _someone_ will come along that just seems so innocent and nice and perfect that I can never imagine these things happening. That's what happened with Amber, with Raven, with Saph. Maybe I'm stupid for trusting them if I knew eventually I'd lose them, even if I hoped it would never ever happen.

Maybe it's just that I'm a masochist.

Stupidity and masochism go hand in hand. 

I don't think masochists actually enjoy pain, just want to see if they're still capable of feeling such. Because pain can be your friend- it reminds you that you're still alive.

Now we can cut back to Mark's house. All those thoughts ran through my head as I was spacing out, listening to Nine Inch Nails. When the last song came on I snapped back into what was happening, stared at the stereo sadly, bit down on my lip and tried to hold back the tears. After a couple seconds had passed I thought: "Fuck it, what's the point anymore?" and let myself cry again.

Again. 

These tears would never stop.

_Staring at the sea- will she come? Is there hope for me after all is said and done? Anything at any price…all of this for you. All the spoils of wasted life- all of this for you. All the world has closed her eyes, tired faith all worn and thin, for all we could have done, **and all that could have been**. Ocean pulls me close and whispers in my ear. The destiny I've chose- all becoming clear. The currents have their say, the time is drawing near. Washes me away. Makes me disappear. AS I DESCEND FROM GRACE IN ARMS OF UNDERTOW  I WILL TAKE MY PLACE **IN THE GREAT BELOW**._

I grabbed the stereo remote and pushed the repeat button. I couldn't stop sobbing. It was this moment of truth- she was gone. SHE WAS GONE. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, I'd known it for the past year yet I still didn't want to believe it. Trent's words were so perfect for the occasion, I didn't know what to do. I wanted to badly to just give up already, go join her, do anything that kept me from feeling this way…but I felt so unfinished.

And scared.

It scared me that everyone would remember her over me…I mean, I didn't have a problem with that, really. I love her, I would remember her over me. It's not a thing about spotlight, just that…I don't know. It's hard to explain really. The best way I can say it is- even though she was the only person that has ever loved me back…I've loved many people. As much as I've cursed this earth- I am intoxicated by its beauty. As much as I've grown to hate- I cherish humanity and see a beauty in people that most people don't recognize. Through my pain I've been able to see such beauty, and such darkness, in so many things…

I've loved so many things, I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want Amber to be forgotten. I don't want our children to be forgotten. I don't want to become that filthy headstone who's only company is a dead lilac bush. I don't want to become just some engraved name that no one remembers. I don't want to be remembered in wrestling as just some great tragedy of a man and his wife dying…I don't want them acknowledging it at all if they can't get across truly how tragic it really is, because none of these fucking people care anymore. You know what happened when wrestlers die nowadays? They get a tribute video sandwiched between a couple of commercials on Raw, they get a special page in that month's magazine, they get moments of silence in the independent federations that want to be with us so badly. 

You can't just get across to the public that she was wrongfully taken. They don't fucking _care_. So as much as I see the beauty in humanity I can see how much these people suck. 

I leaned back in the bed, wiped my eyes, tried not to get too worked up. Part of me wanted Mark to come in and give me some words of wisdom as he'd been doing ever since Amber died, part of me wants him to go kill himself because those pictures, those secrets, the memories that they dragged up are making me hate him.

Trent sounded so sad, so final. 

"_I can still feel you…even so far away…_"

So true, for everything. Just thinking about all that I'd gained, all that I'd lost, all that I'd juggled around in vain made my head hurt. I could hear my mother laughing, heard Paul making fun of me, heard Amber telling me she loved me, heard Claudette on a string of peals. Heard Mark shouting, heard Paul shouting back. Heard Jake. Heard Mark. Paul. Saphrin and Raven laughing at something. Paul. Mark. Evan, Sugarbear, Amber. Paul. Mark. Mark Paul. Amber Claudette Saphrin. Paul. Mom Armand Raven. Mark. Mark. Paul…

That's when I realized…

I wasn't hallucinating. All the voices faded out, but Mark's was still strong.

And Paul was in the house.


	72. And All That Could Have Been

**Chapter 72**

Between me and them was a bathroom…where I stopped to vomit because it rattled me so much. Hearing his voice made me so sick, so scared, made me feel like a child on the inside. Like I could still be controlled by him until I remembered that I was older, that I was grown up now, that I was big. It was so fucked up to think about.

The acoustics in the house were weird, while I thought they had been arguing in the living room, I investigated to find Paul in the kitchen (big fucking surprise) with Mark and they were shouting at each other. I didn't see Paul right away, but I could see Mark, standing on edge, looking torn, for maybe the first time in my life I'd seen him looking terrified, even though he was trying to hide it. He turned his head to me in the doorway, looked out at me. His mouth hung open, then he turned quickly away.

"Just get out," he shouted, and pointed towards the door. "Paul- just get the fuck out of my house right now!"

Paul's whiny fucking voice kicked in, made me feel like I would be sick again. "Why? Because you can't accept the truth?"

"Because I hate you, you aren't wanted here, just get the fuck out."

I did my best to swallow back all the fear and stepped into the room finally, intervening. I didn't look right at Paul, turned to Mark first. "What's going on in here?" I asked, trying to have strength, trying to have authority, even though I had a feeling that my world was about to turn upside-down. Paul's breathing was ragged and old…it made me remember that he wasn't just some all-powerful obese man, remember that I shouldn't be afraid of him anymore. Remember that he was old now with failing health. Slowly I turned to him.

"Kane…" he said. For once in my life, probably in his, too, he sounded…nice? Remorseful? Not evil?

When I saw his face I knew why he was being nice to me. Saphrin had left a few good marks on him. One eye was permanently swollen, half shut, his upper lip swollen the same way. This eyebrow was broken and cut by scar tissue, a purple, reddish slash that went up his forehead, a matching one going over his bumped nose and down across his cheek. His nose was one of contours now, complete with that lump that people often get from breaking their noses. So many things were rushing through me then that I couldn't feel anything.

"What? Why are you here?" I asked him, trying to stay calm. Mark flipped out, grabbed a can of food from the counter where we'd left them a few hours prior and hurled one at him, missing him by inches. It was a quick, lazy gesture, his hand following through on the toss to tangle into his hair. I could tell he was stressed by this. 

"Kane, I-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Mark screamed. He was shaking. It made me so scared to see him that way, worried. I didn't understand why Mark, fucking _MARK_ of all people couldn't do anything about it. If this were anyone else he would've beaten them into a stain on the floor by then.

"Calm down," I said under my breath, looking at my brother. Paul was standing on the opposite side of the room, so sad, so pathetic, so wounded. Being _nice_ to me, I didn't understand it, I couldn't tell if it was one of his schemes or not. 

I think Mark's powers must've been at their height when he got emotional because instantly he just said: "Of course it's a scheme, Kane, don't fucking trust him!"

Paul stared at me, didn't pay any mind to Mark. "Kane…I'm…"

"DEAD! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!" Mark screamed, and threw more things around the room. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! GET THE HELL OUT!"

"…sorry," Paul finished, shaking. Mark was scaring the hell out of him, perhaps as bad as Paul must've been scaring Mark. And for once, for once in my whole life, I seemed to be the one in the middle, the calm one, not left behind and confused, even though I didn't know what the fuck was going on.

"Kane, I'm dying," he said. He put a hand on his enormous stomach, brow creasing. "I have cancer, Kane."

My heart clenched. I turned to see that Mark was staring at me and wondered if he was influencing me to be this way, to make me hate him this much. I was going to get mad when I realized…that I already did hate him that much. I turned back to Paul and spit in his face. "Good. Now what the fuck are you doing here?"

He was shaking. He lifted his hands to his face and wiped the saliva away, held his temples. "We need a talk, the three of us. Because there are a lot of secrets going around and I'll be damned if I never see the two of you brats again and this never gets straightened out," he said. All that niceness vanished…I wasn't surprised. He probably wasn't even dying. But I didn't care, I just hated him so much.

I saw that when he said "brats" Mark flinched.

My fucking God this was awkward. My heart was pounding, I felt so scared. I didn't want to be any part of it, my head swimming with memories. It hurt me, physically, to think of these things, to the point where I was dizzy, where I wanted to pass out. My knees started to get weak as I stared between the two of them, not sure who to side with if I should side with one at all. Paul had that effect on me, I couldn't help it. I felt like a fucking child, seeing him, feeling so helpless against him, scared on the inside. Between he and Mark I felt all the pain those two had ever caused me.

And the bile began to rise. 

I backed out of the room, stumbled into the bathroom and vomited again, this time starting to cry. They were conspiring, they had to have been. Why was Paul there? What did he want? There were a million questions running around, I didn't know what to do, didn't know the answers, couldn't calm myself down. God, I couldn't stop dry heaving, even after everything was gone. It just made me so _sick_ and scared and upset.

I heard Mark's footsteps coming towards the bathroom and pushed myself up, pushed myself down the hallway, dizzy, the heaves still kicking in me, causing me to fall down on the floor. I could hear The Great Below, on repeat, playing still. 

Mark's hand came down on my shoulder, he knelt next to me protectively, talking softly in my ear. "I'll call the police, we can get him out of here, don't listen to anything he says he's just trying to screw with your head, don't let him get to you, okay?" I nodded, but couldn't form words. Mark rubbed my back and stood up, walking away from me. I was so cold, reached out, didn't want him to leave.

Paul was in the living room, where I could see him from the hallway, rotund as ever, shouting and screaming at Mark, though his words were blurring in my head. Mark had spellbound me, was trying to make me completely calm to the point where I wouldn't be able to focus. He cared about me, I knew it, I could feel it from him sometimes, like right then. He was so gentle, so scared. It made me remember that Mark was human, too.

"Kane!" Paul kept shouting as Mark was throwing things at him. I still couldn't understand why Mark wouldn't just kick his ass or something…if only Saphrin had been there to finish the job. Mark cursed at him vehemently, seethed, I swore he was glowing with his anger, yet wouldn't lay a finger on Paul. My stomach flipped, I thought I would be sick again but there was nothing left in my system. The tears caught in my eyelashes just from the pain in my stomach, if nothing else, if not all the noise and all the chaos. 

He kept shouting my name, knew it would get my attention. I was trying so hard not to pay mind to him, but finally I looked up.

_For all we could have done…and all that could have been_.

"Listen to me, Kane," he was saying. I couldn't see Mark, couldn't find him, didn't know where he was.

_Ocean pulls me close, and whispers in my ear._

"Stupid Mark, the phone doesn't work, the line is down!" he boasted. "We're in the middle of nowhere, him and his privacy! Where is he going to get help?"

_The destiny I've chose is all becoming clear…_

I curled tighter into a ball, closer up against the wall, didn't care how weak I looked in front of him, how much like myself as a child I was being. I kept Mark's words in my head and tried not to listen to him, but it wasn't working. "You hate Mark!" he declared. And for some reason…

_The currents have their say, the time is drawing near…_

My whole fucking childhood he'd abused me, and I'd believed him. Now I was an adult and I was so weak, what did it matter that years had passed? He still had the same effect on me, I didn't know how to get away. He kept talking. "You hate Mark, and I need Mark…"

_Washes me away…_

"…and so I need you out of the way."

_Makes me……disappear_…

Everything stopped. I stopped shaking, my heart skipped, my stomach tightened. My tears stopped, I looked up at him in horror, and confusion. The music kept playing but I wasn't focused on it. I looked over Paul's shoulder to see if Mark was there but he was gone. I begged for him to come back in my head as Paul stared me down. 

"What?" I asked shakily. Paul looked at me like I was stupid, or like he'd misheard me.

"What don't you understand, boy?"

"_No one will EVER love you, _boy_!!_" God, he always used to call me that. I felt like vomiting again but controlled myself. 

"What did you say?" I asked him.

He cleared his throat sarcastically. "I _said_ that you hate Mark, and I need Mark, so I need you out of my way."

"What do I have to do with you two?" I asked quietly. He stared for a moment in silence, then threw his head back and laughed.

"My goodness, Kane," he patted his belly as he laughed, trying to emphasize it. "All these years and you're still _stupid_."

I covered my ears, pushed myself away from him without even standing up, sliding back on the floor more towards my bedroom door. "MARK!" I screamed. "MARK!!!"

"Wellof COURSE he'll come!" Paul said, exasperated. "That's what he ALWAYS does, isn't it, KANE? Isn't that what he always does for you? You want him to come and he drops whatever he's doing to make KANE happy? Isn't that how it works?"

He was walking towards me and I kicked him, too weak to stand up, just trying to get him to back off a little. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?" I screamed. Paul laughed at me more, pointed one of his round, stubby fingers at me.

"Leave him alone," Mark said calmly. I looked up and saw him standing there, I could tell he was trying not to cry because I knew him so well, though I don't know if Paul picked up on it. Paul stood between us, I was still curled up on the floor like a fucking baby. "This is between you and me, Paul, leave Kane out of it."

"I WILL NOT LEAVE KANE OUT OF IT!" he shouted, and stomped a foot on the floor. I slipped back still, pushed myself down the hall and finally hit the wall, watching them from a safe distance. Mark seemed pissed off, and wouldn't look at me, and was glaring at Paul, who finally stopped hovering over me. "NOTHING CAN EVER BE BETWEEN YOU AND ME IF HE'S AROUND!"

My heart pounded. "What are you talking about?" I asked. I couldn't disguise my voice, it came out cracked and scared. Mark glanced at me, worried, as Paul pivoted to look at me, glaring, not laughing, not calling me stupid, just pissed off at me.

"Don't you get it? Don't you _see it_, Kane?" he demanded. "YOU HAVE POWERS, TOO!"

All three of us were silent. My body went cold. 

_I can still feel you…even so far away_…

A million things were going through my head at once. I looked to Mark for some kind of guidance, begged him to explain it to me, begged him to help me like he always did. He lowered his eyes to me, dark expression in them, not evil dark, just…troubled. Sad. As sad as I've been my whole life. 

I felt a shock go through my body, starting right in my stomach and charging up into my head, a dull throb through my skull. I closed my eyes, hugged myself, saw things through Mark's eyes, things he was sending me, new powers of his that I never even knew he possessed.

I couldn't feel my body, and didn't feel any pain for a moment, just flickering heat, which stung and burned like fire for pieces of seconds, hurting incredibly, then going away. I closed my eyes, saw just blackness, then a flash, then blackness.

Mark's memories were in my head, subliminal torture, so fast that I didn't see what they were at the moment but then could remember them as my own. I clutched my chest, tried to stand up, balancing against the wall. Mark was staring, sending these images, Paul was looking back and forth between us, undoubtedly clues of our connection.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked, choking. Something sliced through my body, making me wobble even though I was only just standing, not even walking. I reached up and held my head. I was seeing horrible things.

_I can still feel you …even so far away_…

Fire. I saw our house, burning, flames eating it inside out. The flames weren't outside, just blazed within. It was like a living creature, an invader, pulsing, so that you could see it from the outside through the doors and windows, inhabiting the whole building. The only part that left the house were orange hands, wispy fingers tapping on the windows, taunting, licking up against the house, begging Mark to come and play.

I could hear Mark screaming, except that I was seeing it as him, there were his memories, not mine, that I could feel. It felt like _I_ was the one outside watching, but it was him.

Mark, paralyzed there, for some reason he couldn't move, his limbs were locked metal, he couldn't move his joints, was frozen there only to scream, scream my name, then scream for himself. He was crying, and it was so hard for him to cry, because the last time he cried…

Interrupting the images of the fire came a different memory. Mark crying, opening his eyes and sobbing and seeing a body that Paul was in the middle of embalming. 

"Stop crying," Paul scolded, and Mark was trying so hard not to, but was so scared of Paul and for himself that he couldn't stop. Paul leaned over the body and slapped him across the face, and it _hurt_ so much, in so many ways. He grabbed Mark by the back of the neck and pulled his face down towards the body…

Then he went back to the fire, passing through these thoughts of not crying and why he hated crying, staring up at the house and not knowing what the hell else he could do. His head started to throb. Slowly pulsing in his head, like an old movie, was…me. Him wanting to help me but feeling this dead weight, intense fear of Paul. He wanted to help me, wanted to love me, and couldn't, and that feeling in his body that was at the fire was all confused and mixed up. It felt like his blood and turned to metal, held him there like it's own skeleton without joints, yet now was being twisted and abused. My face was raw and wounded in this vision, he was being nice to me, and he _cared_…

Then cut to another image, months later, perhaps, the burns a little healed. He…wanted to help me but couldn't, was weighed down. Because…he knew I hated him…

His thoughts went back to the fire from his premonition, now even more scared because he knew what would happen. And…didn't want that to happen. And he was so helpless still, just a child, couldn't do a damn thing about what was happening.

I saw him again, in his house, trying to hard, _struggling_ not to cry…he'd cried in front of me several times and never seemed so torn up. It was all because of Paul.

My head was spinning with this revelation. All this time I'd thought Mark was so strong and so perfect, yet…now I saw he was just as weak as I was when it came to Paul. I didn't know what to do- this was my whole life that now was just some weird theory, yet I never knew it until just then. All these things that I thought were so real- Mark's perfection, his strength, his invincibility. His hatred. He loved me all the time- it was ME who hated HIM. And he knew it, and that's why he stayed away from me.

It made so much sense even though I didn't want it to.

_I CAN STILL FEEL YOU EVEN SO FAR AWAY… _

How much more of it wasn't real? What the fuck was going on? Was Amber just…some toy? The way all of this was? I couldn't stand the thought. No, no, no. She was real, she was the one person who ever loved me, it couldn't be some illusion the way Mark was…

Mark heard my thoughts, his eyebrows came together, the tears were dangerously close to falling. "Kane, she loved you…" he said to me, over all the chaos. I felt my heart swelling on the inside, everything painful, didn't know what to say or do, didn't know if he was telling the truth.

"How can you believe him, Kane?" Paul demanded. I was taken back, looked between him and Mark for an answer. More of Mark's memories were coming clear to me, even though he wasn't sending them to me. As they came into focus I felt sharp pain in my stomach, and held myself, doubling over. 

Paul…

All I could see was him, verbally abusing Mark worse than he'd ever done to me, Mark missing our mother as much as I ever have, knowing how I felt and not being able to help me because I hated him. Slowly that was fucking his head up, making him hate me, but he was trying so hard not to. He kept remembering Mother's words, his promises to her to protect me, yet was getting so confused by Paul, so manipulated. Paul was trying to channel his powers, doing everything he could to break Mark, screaming at him, torturing him, hitting him…touching him…

I hated Paul so much, as much as Mark ever had.

He'd hurt us both so equally and in such different ways. He was the reason why Mark hated me, he was the reason why I hated Mark, our parents would've still been alive if he hadn't screwed around with everything. I glared at him, seethed, thinking of a million ways to rip him apart.

_Even so far away…_

"How can you believe him??" Paul repeated. "You'd be stupid to believe everything he says, Kane! He only says what you want him to say, he's just a puppet of yours!"

"Mark…"  I stared at him, begged that he would tell me the truth. "Mark, you wouldn't lie to me…" I said it like a statement, couldn't even ask because I didn't want to question it. He lowered his head, I saw what he was feeling right then, felt that same paralyzing feeling through my body, what he was feeling, what he had felt since he was a child. I fell back against the wall, sobbing silently, just giving up. 

"I have a power, too?" I asked, tears clouding my vision. Paul didn't bother making fun of me, was so pissed off and aggravated that he just screamed.

"YES! YES KANE, YOU DO!!"

"So why didn't you use me the way you used him?" I asked him, weak. He stomped his foot on the floor in frustration.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE _USELESS_! YOU'RE USELESS, KANE! YOU HAVE MARK AT YOUR FINGERTIPS AND THAT'S WHY _I_ SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE! I NEEDED YOU OUT OF THE WAY!!"

My hands were shaking so badly that my wrists started to ache. I looked up at Mark, so scared, not knowing if I wanted to know the truth. I was hit again with his memories, Paul hurting him, doing terrible things to him, telling him that if he didn't take credit for setting the fire that things would only get worse. And that was why…that was why…

I dry heaved more, turned away, leaned my forehead against the wall.

"No," I mumbled, and pushed through Paul, past Mark, into the living room. "No, no," I repeated, shaking my head. I collapsed on the floor, falling to my knees, leaning against the couch. As much as I had always hated the fact that Mark started the fire…I didn't know how to just _change_ all my memories, how to rewrite my history with all these secrets that I never knew.

Mark came over, stood between me and Paul protectively. 

"Mark…" I cried.

_Ocean pulls me close and whispers in my ear…_

"Tell me what's going on, tell me the _truth_…" I begged of him.

_The destiny I've chose is all becoming clear_…

Paul followed us, shouting at me. "She never loved you, Kane! And you know it! She _used_ you, and you know it!" he was saying to me. With each thing he said I curled up tighter, cried harder. 

"It's not true," I screamed. 

"WHO would EVER love YOU!?!" he asked me, coming up right beside me, kicking me for emphasis.

"Fuck you!" Mark shouted. 

It wasn't true, I knew it couldn't have been true. Amber was real, Amber loved me, Amber…Amber. She was my life. 

"She loved you, Kane," Mark tried to tell me. I shoved Paul away, clung to Mark, pushed myself up with aid of the couch and stood beside him.

"He's lying, tell me he's lying…" I said to him. Mark stared right into me with his burning emerald.

"He's lying," he reassured me.

Paul stomped his feet again. "Don't believe it, Kane! Remember how he used to treat you? Remember all the things he used to do to you? Don't believe him, he hates you just as you hate him!"

I did remember. I did fucking remember and it was killing me the way it had killed me my whole life. Except now I also remembered Mark's part, how he did love me, how I drove him away, how Paul screwed with his head, turned us against each other. I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling sick, not knowing what to do right away. Paul started speaking but I reached out and punched him before the words got out. 

_For all we could have done. And all that could have been._

Paul fell back, his hands reaching up to hold his cheek where I'd hit him. 

I was rushed with a feeling of motivation, inspiration, something so strong that I hadn't felt since I was with Amber, when I was so driven by love. And now driven by hatred as I glared at him. Amber was REAL. I loved her, she loved me. I wasn't going to let him lie to me about her.

_I can still feel you, even so far away_…

I stepped towards Paul, hit him again, punched him in the face. Hit him for all the times he'd hit me, for all the times he'd touched Mark, for all the lies he'd ever told, for all the fear he ever put into me. For all these years thinking he was untouchable, thinking that I would never overcome him, for feeling like a child even though I'm taller and stronger and _better_ than he is. He ruined my life. 

I hit him for my parents that he killed.

I hit him for my brother that he hurt.

I hit him for my life he'd ruined.

I hit him for my wife.

I hit him for my daughter, who I would never dream of treating the way he treated us.

And then stood over, watching him bleeding, staring up at me with this fear that kindled all the feelings that used to drive me, all the hatred he'd built in me towards Mark, that he would _use_ me with. All the people that had ever laughed at me were swirling in his eyes, everyone who had ever left me. And I was tired of being used. 

Standing over him made me think only one thing: I wanted him dead.

Mark stood back, watching in dull awe, probably going through the same things as me…well, maybe. I think he knew all along what was happening to me and never told me. That must've been what was in that letter, that he didn't want me seeing right away. And it made sense, as I pounded into Paul's face.

He did what I wanted him to do, it was true. I saw now. It had never hit me strange that whenever I asked him for something he would wait on me, whenever I really needed him he was there for me. Just like I'd thought the only person who you could trust was yourself…it wasn't _him_ who was being this nice, it was _me_ asking him to be that way. It embarrassed me that he knew it and I didn't, made me angry with him, but I couldn't focus on that while I was kicking the shit out of Paul.

I wanted him to die.

That was why Mark had kissed me, I realized. That was why he had known about Amber's death before the police even had a chance to ask for him. He just knew something was wrong because I wanted him to know, because I needed him and he came to me. He kissed me because I was so desperately in need of _someone_ that he took it on himself, maybe felt that was the only way to show how extreme his love was for me.

We're brothers. We have the same blood. It was his _blood_ in all those memories that was hurting him, making him do that. His blood, and my blood. It was the same and it was making him accommodate me. 

For a moment I stopped kicking Paul, because he'd stopped moving. I heard Mark crying behind me but didn't turn to look at him yet, just stared at Paul. He wasn't moving, didn't look like he was breathing, on the ground where I had been kicking him in the gut. It couldn't have been possible that he was dead, in no ways were my assaults fatal. But…

"Is he…?" I asked Mark. I turned to him, saw him sitting down on the floor, holding his head. Mark, so collected, so strong, so wise, so perfect, so immortal. Mark- collapsed on the floor, holding his head, desperate.

_Is there hope for me after all is said and done?_

Mark lifted his eyes, looked from me slowly to Paul, looked absolutely broken. His lips parted to speak and nothing came out. I walked over, sat down on the couch, near where he was on the floor. I reached out my hand and took his. I could feel the energy passing through us.

"You killed him," Mark said. I'd never heard him so humbled. 

I looked over at Paul, saw his body unmoved, curled on the floor. Blood trickled from his nose and from his mouth, a bruise was paling over his cheekbone. But there was also blood trickling out of his ear. My throat went dry as I turned back to Mark.

"What's going on?"

All the shit we'd been through together, all our lives, all the pain and love and hate, and it came down to this. In the span of a half hour maybe I'd found out that my life was a lie, that there was all this shit going on that I'd never known about. Mark looked up at me, looked like a child, and finally wiped his eyes. I took his hand again, stood up, helped him to his feet and brought him into a different room, where we weren't bothered by the body. Into his bedroom, where we sat down on his bed.

"You killed him," he said again, kind of in disbelief. I hugged him, held him against me.

"I saw what he did to you, Mark," I said softly. I felt his body shaking against mine. He was weeping. 

"I'm sorry, Kane, I should have never lied to you for so long," he cried. I held him anyway, let him cry, switched roles with him after all this time. "I should have never let him do that to you…" he cried.

Another one of his memories…Paul hurting him, telling him he was going to kill me. Mark being too scared to warn me, or our parents, instead grabbing up some pictures of us and fleeing the house. Putting them in a metal box with a lock.

"What's going on?" I asked again. He pulled away from me, stared for a minute, his eyes getting puffy. I felt stricken with guilt that I'd never seen how badly Paul had hurt him, too, felt like it was my fault somehow. 

Even weirder was that apparently I had a power, like Mark.

"Not like mine," he corrected, and calmed down. He stopped crying, wiped his eyes on his long sleeves, stood up and began to pace a little. He wouldn't look at me as he spoke. "Kane…you have a power to manifest, stronger than my power ever was."

"What?" my blood ran cold as he said it.

"You've always had it," he continued. "Always, since you were an infant. If you were having a shit day, things would break in the house, people would just want to help you and not know why. You should've seen Father…him, of all people. He would drop what he was doing, march up to your nursery and just…play with you. For no reason, really. He was so cold, and distant, we both know it. Now imagine him doing that? Mother told me that he'd never done that for me, that it was you making him do it. Did you even notice just now? Paul's ears bleeding? That doesn't happen from kicking someone in the ribs, Kane…"

"What?" my voice was barely a whisper. Chills ran up and down the sides of my body. Mark calmed down even more. He must've been a master of that, since I'd never seen him crack such emotion before. He must've been a _god_ at holding all that inside.

"You asked before what it was like to spellbind," he said, and stopped, leaning against the wall and combing his fingers through his hair. "Sometimes I forget that you didn't know. That's why I gave you a weird look. It just happens, you get it? You want something to happen and it…happens. When I do it, I just play with people's heads. When you do it…everything just goes your way."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

Mark's eyes filled with tears again, which he blotted before they could fall. "You didn't want to know."

_Anything at any price, all of this…for you._

I was shaking now, not with anger, but…I don't know what it was. I was thoroughly freaked out at that point. "Why do you say that?"

He let out a laugh, maybe at the situation, how weird it all was. "Don't you see how complicated this is, Kane?"

I shook my head.

"I promised Mother I would protect you," he said to me. "And we have the same blood. And when you want something, I can _feel_ it. It goes beyond being able to read minds, being able to see the future. I've always known what you were thinking, even things you didn't know you were thinking. I've always known everything about you, but you weren't the casualty. It was me. Because I had to do everything you wanted."

"And if you didn't?"

He just looked at me, and I felt the pain again. "It hurt too much," he said softly.

I held my head in my hands, pulled my hair, started hyperventilating. "I don't understand," I coughed. I felt so dizzy. Mark raised one of his eyebrows.

"What?"

"It doesn't make any sense! Nothing goes my fucking way!" 

Mark's mouth closed, he just stared. I remembered Dr. Smith, her games, waiting for me to keep talking. Mark wanted me to keep talking.

"I _hate_ my life, Mark," I pointed out. "I didn't want any of that to happen! I didn't want Mother to die, I didn't want you to hate me, I didn't want…" my voice got tangled inside of me. "I didn't want…them to die…"

_I descend from grace…_

I'll never forget the look on his face. So sad, like he didn't want to be the one to tell me, so helpless, wishing that I understood. His eyes darkened, he bit his lip and paused for a moment before finally saying:

"Are you sure about that?"


	73. I Will Take My Place in the Great Below

**Chapter 73**

I started shivering. 

"What?" was the one syllable that I could spit out. Mark's lip quivered, he looked away from me, put up his hand to shield his eyes. 

Mark had his back against the wall, and slowly slid down, until he was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up. My stomach was twisting as I looked at him, I thought I could die. It was infuriating. I stood over him menacingly, but he only looked up at me with exhaustion, sorrow.

"Why aren't you telling me the truth?" I demanded. "Mark! You're supposed to do what I want you to do- why aren't you fucking telling me!?" 

He gave me a wistful smile, crying more. "It's so complex, Kane, you don't get it."

"Don't treat me like that!" I shouted. "Don't just assume that I'm stupid, don't treat me like _he_ always did. You know I'll understand. What the hell are you talking about?"

Mark wrapped his arms around his stomach, held himself, looking up at me. "Of course you didn't openly want any of that to happen. But don't you get the fact that you have a subconscious?"

_Is there hope for me?_

My knees were going weak, I backed away from Mark and braced myself against one of his dressers. It didn't make sense. I didn't…I didn't understand. I loved her. I loved her. I CREATED Claudette. I held my stomach, felt it constricting beneath my hand, so that I started gagging, but still there was nothing there to regurgitate. 

"I love her," I said, coughing. Mark was so humble, so quiet, just looking up at me like that. "I love her, I always will. This is…no. No. I didn't want them to die, I didn't want them to die. I didn't! I loved Amber, I loved my _daughter_…"

"I haven't had a girlfriend in years…" Mark said offhandedly. "I had one…but…it wasn't working."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What does that have to do with anything?!"

"As much as you say you love me…you didn't want me to be happy, did you?"

"Mark, of course I did. What kind of-"

He interrupted me. "Did you?" he asked slowly, more dark than the first time. I felt nervous now, unsure of what he was about to tell me, not sure that I wanted to know. I didn't answer him. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, speaking calmly, musing almost. "The same way you say you want me to tell you the truth…you really don't want to know. And I know it. I've always known these things, Kane. All your life you've been conflicted about things. You push your aggressive side to the back of your head and don't listen to it. The mind you hear now is just the strong person you try to be. But it's not who you really are."

 My tears blurred his image, stung my eyes. "What…what are you talking about?"

"I've been thinking of how to tell you this for a long time," he said, sighing. He stood up, walked over to me, the tears gone from his face and replaced with an unnerving serenity. "Kane…you're always criticizing yourself. You've always been confused. You wonder how you went through something so traumatic and came out such a good person. You know why you question yourself?"

I shook my head, my mouth forming the word _no_ but the sound not coming out. Tears fell from my eyes, so that for a second I saw his face clearly before it blurred again. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"That cruelty, that person you always imagine that you would've turned into if you weren't so nice…is inside you. And you try to ignore it, and it's not working anymore."

"I loved Amber, Mark…"

"I know you did," he said softly. "Just like I know you loved me, and how you never wanted me to be happy somewhere in the back of your mind. I understand, Kane. I understand how you work. It's okay, you stick with me and we'll be fine. We're in this together…"

My head throbbed. "You know everything," I said. "You see my dreams. You know everything."

He smiled again, that same miserable smile that was just from pity, for both of us.

_All of this…for you…_

I started to fall but Mark caught me, held me so that I wouldn't collapse. "You've shaped my life, Kane," he said softly, in my ear. "Any time I've tried to break away, it hurt so much that I couldn't stay away from you. I hate you for it sometimes…but I love you. I wouldn't have things any other way."

"This is so fucked up…"

"I know it is."

"You lied to me the whole time."

"No. You didn't want to know."

"You're being really creepy."

"I'm just doing what you want me to do."

I wiped my eyes, cleared my vision, stared right into him. "Mark. I want to know what happened with Amber. You have to tell me. You have to fucking tell me. I don't care if I don't want to know in the back of my head-" I started crying more, nearly sobbing again "-you have to tell me. I'm begging you, Mark._ Brother_…"

He sighed again, and led me over to the bed, made me sit down for it. He stood, not looking at me as he paced the room, talking softly. 

"I knew it was some plan you'd been conjuring up for a while. You just didn't know it. You were so out of your mind, you were so dead to everyone back then…for months you were planning the perfect life for yourself, in the back of your mind where this creature you've been acting as would never find out. You wanted to have friends and a lover and be loved like everyone else in the world, because you felt so left out.

"When everything fell into place it was that Valentine's Day. I was afraid that if you got involved you would…become something else. I was afraid for you, and for me. I wasn't going to bring you to the party but…" he paused, I felt a sharp jab of pain go through me, that…_feeling_. That I caused him to feel. My body jolted, I twitched and then settled. It went away as soon as it had come. "It wasn't just like a feeling here or there as it had been in the past. It was…strong. And it lasted. And finally I just went and got you. The longer I was standing outside your hotel room the easier the pain was on me…I figured you were getting what you wanted, that demon inside you was content, I just had to win you over as well, both sides of you.

"So we went to the party. And you met Amber. And you guys fell in love so instantly. You overlooked the fact that she was spoiled, that she acted like a whore, that she slept with you when she only knew you for a couple hours…"

I glared at him, hating that he said something like that about her.

"It's true though," he said, and raised an eyebrow, lifting a finger up and pointing at me. "Had you met her in your right mind you probably would've cast her off as some ringrat, and don't deny that. But…you loved her. And because you loved her, and because you wanted her, and because you _needed_ her, she needed you back. You wanted her to love you and she did, without question. Love at first sight? Didn't you ever wonder that it was weird that you guys just…saw each other and fell in love?"

I shook my head. "No…" I murmured. 

He raised his eyebrow again. "And you know why?"

"Because I didn't…want to admit it…" I closed my eyes, the tears ran down my face. 

"Exactly, Kane. You were so in love with her, and your other side didn't want you to know it wasn't real. And you want to know something else?"

I was thinking no, but said yes. But what the hell did we have to lose, now? Mark told me anyway.

"You wanted her dead from the moment you met her."

I screamed, and lashed out, picking up a lamp from the table beside the bed and throwing it across the room, hitting a wall, breaking, crashing down onto the floor. "No! NO I DIDN'T!"

_I will take my place_…

Mark started crying. "You wanted her dead so badly, Kane. And I loved her as much as I loved you. And I saw how happy this side of you was, and I thought maybe you could be my real brother. But…you're not! You're not yourself, you're just…" he paused, trying to word it. "You've got two sides, Kane. One is my actual brother. You're just…what you wish you were. Everything you had with Amber was just your perfect fantasy of what a life should be. That's why you got married, had a daughter, brought her and Jake on the road with you…it was all perfect for you. And then you made Raven and Saphrin…"

"Oh my God, Mark…don't bring them into this…" he ignored my comment and continued.

"You had them come along because you felt you needed friends. You know why I stopped talking to you? You know why I went back to Paul?"

"No," I said, meaning I didn't know, and didn't want to know.

"You wanted them dead so badly and were placing the responsibility on me. It hurt so much and I didn't want to do it. So I went to Paul because I knew he could fix it…in a way. He used to try all kinds of things to make me not get as affected by you, because he knew he could never use me if you were in the way."

I stood up, pacing as well, holding my head. "So why did you apologize to me? You came to my house and apologized to me, the same night I found out Saphrin was pregnant…"

"Because you wanted me to for once. You missed me. And you loved this image you'd created of yourself so much that you wanted to hear me say that you were better. And it tore me up so much that I came to your house and told you that you were better than me, and that I was at your mercy. And Saphrin? You wanted her to be happy. Raven, too. The two of them were your _saviors_ and you pushed them away. I honestly think they could've made everything better for you if you'd given them the chance."

"But…" I felt so dizzy. "What about…that night? That night I got drunk. The next day you said…you said all these things…" I stopped, had a short fit of sobbing while Mark waited silently. Just looking at him and I could see the pain he was in. "Did you mean what you said to me?"

"Yes."

"I didn't…_want_ you to do that?"

"No. I meant it," he told me.

I rushed at him, shoved him against the wall and pinned him there, my forearm resting on his throat. "Are you lying to me?"

"No," he said, trying so hard to stay calm, yet so turbulent underneath. "I meant it. I thought…" his voice cracked and he paused to control himself. "I thought that maybe you would change after she was gone…"

"WHAT?"

"You were so miserable," he was trying to explain and suddenly seemed completely like a child, lip quivering, eyebrows together, explaining this with his heart in his throat, tripping over his words. "I thought maybe that nice person that you were trying to be would influence your other side, I thought maybe if I made you love me enough you would stop torturing me…"

I was at a loss for words.

"All you do is torture me," he added. I let him go, backed up from him, stood in the middle of the room in silence for a moment. My head felt light, I was weightless, my stomach churned. This was so fucked up- to find all of this out. And I thought I had it all figured, I did. And I wanted to prove something to myself.

 I ran back out into the living room, knocking over some furniture in the process as I fell down beside Paul's corpse. Mark followed me into the room. "What are you doing?" he asked me. I leaned over Paul's body for a moment, staring, relieved that he was actually dead. My heart was racing, sweat was breaking out over my hands and my head and my neck. I took a deep breath, working up the courage, before grabbing Paul's collar and tearing open his shirt.

"What the fuck?" Mark was alarmed. 

"Where is it?" I mumbled to myself, to him, to anyone. My eyes searched over Paul's body, his unpleasant fucking physique, the stretch marks that his cellulite caused, looking, looking. I pulled the shirt completely off, rolled his body over, looked over his back. Black dots were appearing in my eyes, over exerting myself. I saw flashes of the nightmare I'd had in the hospital- Amber staring at me, through me. I understood. I knew all afuckinglong hadn't I? It made sense. Looking at me. I'd done it. I'd done it! I'd caused her to die.

But I hadn't been the one to murder her.

At me, but through me.

_I can still feel you_…

I took a deep breath before pulling Paul's pants down, looking over his thighs maybe. When they, too, were clean, I fell back on my heels, hyperventilated. Mark put his hands on my shoulders, tried to calm me down.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked me, rubbing my shoulders. I took a moment to catch myself, calm down. 

I turned to him. "The…the detective…"

"James? What about him?"

"He said that whoever killed her was shot with the bow gun. There has to be a scar. There has to be a scar," I was out of breath. Mark gave me a really sad look. "It was Paul," I insisted. Would it work? If I told myself it was Paul would I believe it? The subconscious doesn't really exist once you know about it. I stared up at Mark, about to break, pleading with him with my eyes to comfort me, agree with me about this. "It…it was Paul. He killed them…didn't he?"

Mark closed his eyes. One of his hands covered his mouth, I saw a tear run down his face. His other hand was shaking as he stood up, backed away from me. It ran across the hem of his shirt for a moment, then stopped. It was so intense.

_Even so far away_.

He lifted up his shirt, showed me his stomach. More of the memories that he'd sent me were coming through, forming in my head. I saw his hands, washing blood off. Saw a log thrown into the fireplace at my house. 

I blinked, let the forming tears fall from my eyes, let everything clear. Clear. Saw more than just the peach colored mass of his abs.

But a little star shaped scar.

"No," I said. "No." I shook my head, wildly, saying _no _over and over. Seeing in my head his memory. Walking up the front steps of my house, walking right the hell in without knocking. His body hurt so much, he didn't want to do it but was being driven insane. He couldn't take it anymore. All because I was pissed off. All because I'd been wondering how my mother would've gotten along with Claudette. All because I missed Mother so much that I needed someone to blame. All because I wasn't angry with him at the time. All because he'd started the fire but we'd made amends. 

All because I needed a reason to hate him.

He walked into the house, slowly, unsure of how to go about it. He grabbed a log from the side of the hearth, walked to the kitchen. Amber was just standing there, looking at him. 

Looking at me. 

That was the image I'd seen in my nightmare. Mark's fucking memories, Mark's fucking visions. I stared at him in disbelief as he slowly lowered his shirt again, kept his eyes closed. I stumbled backward, tripped over Paul and then landing hard on the floor, staring up at him. "No. No, Mark. No. You…you wouldn't…"

But he had. I could see it. Amber asking what was up, looking strangely suspicious. 

He could see my dreams. HE PUT THESE IMAGES IN MY HEAD TO DREAM.

I saw it through my own eyes, like _I_ was the one hitting her, smacking her with the log, hitting her in the head with it, her kicking _me_ between the legs, giving her enough time to grab her bow gun. She shot it, right as I threw a vase at her, so that she fell down on the ground, in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, dropping her arrows and her gun, misfiring and hitting my stomach. I cursed out loud, tried to pull it out of me as she got up. She was bleeding, from her head, from her hands. She touched her head, blood covering her hand, reaching up and holding the wall for support, leaving a smear on the wall, the handprint that would soon break me. 

She limped into the living room, I could tell she was going to try to get to Claudette. She tripped, fell down. I started to get up, after pulling the arrow out of me, slowly walking towards her. She looked up at me and screamed. "Why are you doing this!?!" she sobbed. She shook uncontrollably, bleeding all over herself. I grabbed her up, she wriggled away and fell, knocking into a table, knocking over the lamp. She looked up at the wall, at framed pictures of us, her purple hair stained red. "Kane!! Kane where are you?!?! Help me, Kane, don't let this happen to me!!" she begged, screamed. I smacked her with the log, silenced her. 

I leaned down over her, seeing if she was unconscious. So quick, she always was, so alert, so that before I even know it she grabs the log and whacks me in the head with it, causing no blood but causing me to fall back. She's woozy by this time, can't really walk, but crawls into the kitchen, grabs the cordless phone. She's crying.

"Kaaaane," she cried out. "Kane where _are_ you? Don't let this happen to me…our baby, Kane…"

My body hurts, the hurt that I cause Mark, and I compose myself before going in there after her. She weakly lifts her hands up to shield herself, a lame attempt. "Mark…don't! Why are you doing this?! Mark!" screaming, crying, broken. She was smart, she knew she wasn't going to get out of this, that she was pretty much…fucked. So she gave up, bleeding all over herself, dropping the phone when Mark finally grabbed a knife and stabbed her. Hit her more. Then left her there to bleed.

Left her there to bleed while he went to Claudette, making it quick, smothering her and choking her while she was asleep. While I'm going through all these feelings, I'm at least a bit happy that she wasn't in so much pain.

I stared at Mark, feeling ultimately betrayed. I loved him. I LOVED HIM. And I trusted him goddamnit. It was so hard for me to trust and I finally did and felt so strange and vulnerable over it…and look!

I thought my ears would start bleeding, such was the shock, the pain, the guilt. Guilt because it was my fault, guilt because I had killed her. I cried, covered my eyes with my hands but couldn't get the graphic images out of my head. Felt like it was _me_ hurting her, felt the wood in my hands, bashing her on the head over and over after I'd stabbed her. Then just staring down at the phone which had fallen from her hands. She'd only had time to dial 9-1-1, her crucial few numbers, before passing out, and passing away.

It occurred to me that if it had happened somewhere else, Indianapolis maybe, she would've been okay, not in the middle of nowhere, where no one would hear her screaming, not in the middle of nowhere, where she couldn't get rushed to a hospital. She'd died from the blood loss, the head trauma, the brain swelling…all of which probably could've been helped, she could've been saved…

"Of course she could've been saved," Mark interjected. I couldn't look at him, felt too betrayed, too mixed up. "You took that into consideration before it happened. You're smart, you know."

"How could I do something like this? Oh God, no…"

"It's not all your fault, Kane," he tried to explain. "It never was. Not _you_ in particular, you have two sides."

"That's…that's not right…"

"It is," he said. I shut my eyes even tighter, seeing her again, seeing her bleeding. _Hurting_ her, hurting her like it was some game. "You have two eyes, two sides…you fucked up that one in the fire, screwed up the pigment…you've never seen the truth behind it, you've never had that glimpse at what you really are…

"And that makes you a sociopath…"

I thought of all the nightmares I'd ever had about her, about her anger towards me. I saw her bleeding, saw my hands putting the weapon down in the fireplace to be burned and destroyed, grab the arrow and storm out of the house, drive away while it was barely snowing. It would be a while before a cop could get there just to see what the call was about, even longer for reinforcement to show up. Longer for me to get there.

Mark had cried the whole way to wherever he was going, barely able to see the road and the increasing snow.

_Staring at the sea_…

Yet after doing this thing for me, after breaking his own heart doing what he didn't want to do, for me, because I needed it to be done, the pain was still there.

"They were such good friends to you because they never game in," Mark noted. "I didn't have that luxury. Raven, Saphrin, they stood up to you, that's why you liked them, that's how they cracked your other side into being nice to them."

"This can't be happening…" I said, breathing hard.

_All the spoils of a wasted life…_

I opened my eyes, and looked into his.

_All of this…for you_.

The emerald suddenly seemed to be nothing more than peridot. I snapped.

"How could you do this to me?!?" I screamed. His eyes were wildly green, I couldn't read his expression. I stood up, stepped over Paul's huge dead body. I stood close to Mark, only a couple feet away. He just looked up at me, still. Neither of us moved for a moment. I repeated myself. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?" I screamed, louder. He blinked a few times, twitched, almost faltered. 

"You wanted me to," he tried to say. I backhanded him across the face, leaving a red stain in the wake. His head snapped over to the side, staying there. Tears fell from his eyes. "You were the one who was hurting _me_."

It was true, I could feel his pain as he stood there, felt that feeling that I'd always put inside him, always pulling his strings. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. "I…I loved her."

"Yeah, and you love me, too, right?" his eyes turned, then his head, to look over at me, giving me this hard look that made me shiver.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. 

Mark raised his eyebrows, looking at me with a level of sorrow. Yet so calm. It was creepy. I asked him what he was talking about again, his eyes averting before he cleared his throat, voice scratching. "Don't you want me dead, too?"

My eyes widened, I tried to say no but the word wouldn't come out, just faded from my lips. I loved him, as I'd loved Amber. But this time…I…_realized_ that it was happening, felt fire inside my chest, building. Was there actually some other side to me? It seemed absurd- I didn't want to believe it…

But it was Mark, and I believed him.

I hit him again, pulled back and punching him in the face, cracked right over his nose, between his eyes. He fell backwards, his hands flying to his face, coming away and showing the blood the was dripping, the bruise that was forming. He just stared at me, but didn't say anything.

My fists clenched, I thought of all the matches we'd ever had. All the hugs we'd ever shared, all the times he'd told me I was worthless. It came down to this, right down to this moment, when we were glaring at each other, after I'd hit him the way Paul had hit him before. Paul had no reason to, no good reason. But I did. I promised myself, I promised Amber, that I would avenge her and I was going to. Even if it was my brother.

 I couldn't stop crying as he stared at me, as his nose bled and he wiped it with his hand. "I'm not going to fight you," he said softly, not looking at me but at the blood in his hand. His hand shook, then dropped to his side. He closed his eyes and lifted his head, taking in deep breaths before opening them. He let his arms go at his sides, pulled his shoulders back, made his chest a clear target. He looked me dead in the eyes. "Do it, then, Kane."

_The time is drawing near_… 

My head throbbed and I felt his pain again, saw that he was barely moving except the trembling, knew he was feeling it just then. "I…can't…"

_Washes me away…_

"But you want to," he said to me. He nearly glared at me, so intense were his eyes, though he didn't seem angry, just desperate.

_Makes me disappear_…

I stepped up to him, close, reached out and touched his face, felt the wetness where his tears had been. More of them fell, from him and from me. I wanted so badly to hurt him, to hit him, to kill him…but I didn't know if I could…

"You saw what I did to her," he said. "You can do it, Kane."

This was the most macabre type of encouragement. I wrapped my arms around him, hugged him. Cried onto his shoulder. Slowly his arms returned it to me. We held each other for a moment. "I'm sorry," I said to him. "I'm really sorry, I know it's my fault…"

"Don't apologize, just get it over with…"

I pulled back and stared at him for a moment. I shouldn't have been surprised, I should've learned that night that anything was possible, that I should stop just believing what I already knew, that none of it was real…that everyone around me was just playing games with me, knew things that I didn't, just pretended that everything was alright. It was so possible that Mark…_wanted_ me to kill him, just like I wanted to kill him.

"Goodbye," I said, and shoved him, knocked him on the ground, slammed his head down onto the floor. I pinned him beneath me, wrapped one of my hands around his throat while I grabbed the telephone from the table beside us, holding the cradle and bashing his face with it. The blood was splattering up into my face, into my eyes, into my mouth. He didn't scream or fight me, even though he was coughing and sputtering and bleeding all over the place. He was convulsing beneath me as I hit him over and over again in the face.

I could've just strangled him and gotten it over with, I could've just shot him or slashed his throat. But it was coming through, the part of me that wanted him dead, the part of me that also wanted to really hurt him, make him suffer. That's why I was hitting him, that's why I wasn't really _trying_ to strangle him, just to torture him more.

That's why I got off of him after a moment, watching immediately as he curled up into a ball and held his face, but couldn't get up, just coughed and choked. I couldn't decide what to do. I loved him, I knew it was my fault, I didn't want him to suffer…but all I could see was what he'd done to Amber. 

And what else did I have to lose, anyway? This was all my fault, why not cause more fucking problems?

I left him there only for a moment, left him to go into the kitchen, grabbing a knife. This was that I wanted, what I needed, I need to see the blood, and to make a mess to get the point through my head. I gripped it, tried to let my soft side leave me, tried to embrace that dark side of me that just wanted to kill him. 

_And I descend from grace…_

He was shaking and not paying attention to me.

_In arms of undertow…_

I dropped to my knees beside him, gripped the knife tighter.

_I will take my place…_

He was crying, tears and blood making a mess on his face, but he didn't speak. I don't know if he even could speak at that point, just kind of stared up at me, wavering. I drew in a deep breath.

_IN THE GREAT BELOW!_

With a quick movement I stabbed down, the knife going through his chest and into his heart with little resistance. The blood poured out, hurt my eyes at how dark and rich it was. Mark's eyes widened, the color blazing from the blood that surrounded. His mouth was moving but he wasn't saying anything. I looked down into his eyes and saw Amber. My grip on the knife tightened and I twisted it.

I do love him, I still do. It's just confusing about who's fault all of that was. If I can blame him for it I'll pretend I don't know it's my fault, just because it makes me feel better.

I can ignore that, can't I? I can let go of the knife and stand up and wipe the blood off on my pants and ignore who's fault it really was.

His breathing slowed as I stood over him, watching, disgusted at him and what he'd done, how we'd treated each other our whole lives. Blood was pouring fluidly, over him, over the carpets, creating this sea of red. It came in a flood, gushing, all over the place. I wanted to kneel down, hold his hand, do something, but…didn't. I couldn't bring myself to, could only cry and turn my back, leave him there to _bleed_ the way he'd just left Amber like that.

There was no saving Mark, like there was no saving Amber, like there was no saving my kids. 

I changed my clothes and left the house. 

Like there was no saving me.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!!** …one chapter left. ;D


	74. The End

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!** Hey ducks…this is the last chapter. I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed it, and who's emailed me telling me to continue. It's taken me a while to write, I know, because of time restraints and such, but I finally got it done so here it is! =D Also….I'm writing a short sequel, kind of an epilogue really, but I'm not going to post it here. If you want to read it, REVIEW!! Because I KNOW for a damn FACT that a lot more people have been reading this story than have been reviewing. And if you read all of this (it's almost 300 pages!) the least you could do is drop me a line telling me what you thought!

Sooooo if you're interested in reading the epilogue, leave a review with your email address, or email me, or instant message me, or SOMETHING. Just let me know that you read, and want to read more, and tell me what you thought. THANK YOU!!! XD

And now for the moment you've been waiting for…

**Chapter 74**

This brings me here. Now.

The phone in Mark's house had been dead, when I think about it now I think I must've caused that, caused a gush of wind to knock loose a tree branch which pulled the wire down. By now I've also pieced together that I caused Paul to come, that after the anger I'd felt towards Mark I wanted an answer. And so Paul came, told me…when I wouldn't accept the truth of it Mark told me again.

They say that…you never know the meaning of life until you're too old to use it. Has this been fated all along? I feel that I have a good grip on what _my_ life is about, and I'm young still. It's taken me this long, because maybe all along it was meant for me to not be able to use it. It was meant all along that things would come down to this- that I'd learn the meaning of life in a thirty-five year curriculum. It's not even my thirty-fifth birthday yet, how sad…

Either that, or maybe…maybe I've always wanted things to be this way? I say that with complete sarcasm…I wish I could be that cynical but I know that it's partially true. Partially only because…only because I don't know. And I'm not sure I want to know.

Or maybe it's in human nature; maybe not the fact that it was fated, just fat_al_. Maybe it's just human nature to understand something right at the end, to sense that the end is near. Is that possible? Even if maybe I can understand myself now- I can't pretend to answer the other questions.

I know that…I loved her. And I want to believe that I loved her, but I'm not sure, I'm doubting myself. _Knowing_ something doesn't mean shit, and I learned that a few days ago. Everything I _knew_ was false.

Mark was right- there are two sides of me. I've had four days to think about it, and here's what I've come up with:

The real me, the subconscious me, the person who I try to push away, is cold hearted and mean. This is the person who controls what happens to me, the true gatekeeper of this power I possess. This is the side of me that shut down and learned how to function without emotions. This is the side of me who was affected even more deeply by all the tragedies, who learned to treat people like shit because that was the only way people treated me.

When I think about it, I understand that the fire was not my fault, nor was it Mark's, even though we had a part in influencing it. It was my fault because Paul set it with the intention of killing me, Mark's fault because he knew what would happen and never told anyone. And I guess…Paul took me in thinking that he'd be able to use me against Mark, if he couldn't have Mark, then he'd just use me instead. So it was partially Mark's fault and partially mine, but I wasn't going to blame us for what Paul did.

I think I understand the concept that while I always kind of hated Mark I knew he'd always be there, and I just…needed someone to comfort me. That was why he and I were always on and off, and also the reason why he killed Amber and later was nice about it, because I wanted him to. 

There's a Norse god, Odin… I think of him, now. Odin- the god of war and death, but also the god of poetry and wisdom. He sacrificed one of his eyes for his wisdom, his remaining one blazes. Is that not…me, in some way? Two sides, two eyes, one of which was never really there. One eye which was blind, one personality that was silent. 

Once you know about your subconscious there's no forgetting it. I can't just pretend again that I didn't know it existed, I can't act the way I've been acting because of it. 

It's funny, all this time I never even knew what was going on, I was perfectly fine (fine, not _happy_, mind you) just being who I thought I was and ignoring it. It seems absurd to think that this side of me is really just somebody I'm trying to be, because…it seems to fit so well. But ever since I knew it, I feel…I don't know what it is. I always thought I would never be cruel and horrible, and now that I know that I am on the inside, I can kind of think like that side, I can understand everything that's going on, I can think of Amber…and admit it.

My hand shakes as I write, my eyes are tearing. I'm contradicted, because that person I've grown so used to being doesn't want to let go of the fact that he loves her, yet the person who I really am…can openly admit that it was true.

Here I am, I'll write it out- **everything Mark said was true. I wanted her dead from the moment I met her.**

It wasn't Amber's fault. It really wasn't, it was Mark's. I mean…when I think about it, it should have been pretty obvious that he killed her, I think the reason no one realized it was because he was spellbinding them to make them forget about it, to not think about it. That's how he dealt with the cops, and I was oblivious on this whole matter. So sure, it was Mark who killed her. But it's more my fault than his. 

He says I've been controlling his life, but the truth is that he's also been controlling mine.

So I see now the sequence of my downfall. I was never cruel, just mindless. That was when my sides started branching off from each other. The angry side of me just _wanted_ to be loved, I think that's why the nice side took over. I acted the way a nice person should act, I tried to be…what I wasn't. The weird thing is that it really what I was, I was…fuck I don't know. I just don't know anymore. I'm fucking confused about the whole thing. 

I'd like to think that most of who I was being was genuine, only because it all _felt_ so genuine. These past few days I've just felt empty trying to decide who I really am. Because now I see both sides of it, I can track all my past events with anger that almost overrides the way I felt at the time. I guess if…if I could create the person I became, it must be real…it can work that way, right?

Fuck.

It's hard being _told_ something like this, when you couldn't even figure it out by yourself. I feel angry. I feel stupid. I feel sick. I feel confused. Every feeling I've ever had up until now should be erased because it was diluted by all the lies. 

So anyway…it's been four days since what happened. After I left Mark's house, I got to the end of the driveway and turned back. I went back into his house, took his stupid metal box, rationalized and got my wallet and all that…then I went out to his shed, found gasoline, and came back inside. I sprinkled it all over his and Paul's bodies, then around the house until it was empty. I dropped a match.

I was crying when Mark's body caught, as I watched the fire go from where I was standing to fluidly spreading over the floor, over the table, then onto him and all the blood. Quickly then to Paul. I was surrounded by the flames but they were severe yet, they hadn't really caught to anything just then and only existed on the gas. That's how those things are, you know? 

The smoke that had started to come up was choking me, filling my head with memories that I wished I didn't have. I walked over to Paul, standing a couple feet away, staring at him. The fire singed his hair, started to catch to his clothes. Black smoke came up from him, making me cough and filling the room with this terrible smell that I remembered all too clearly. I couldn't stop crying.

"Burn, you bastard," I shouted. I kicked his body, too fast to let the fire hurt me. I just wanted to kill him again, and again. I couldn't get satisfaction from it. Mark was a different story, however. When I turned to him I just…wanted to bring him back to life. But I knew it was too late for that. I kept having wisps of thoughts that this was revenge, until I remember that he hadn't actually started the fire, which just made me hate Paul so much more.

I stepped over to Mark, around the fire that was growing, staying carefully distant from it. I knelt down, reached out my hand to let the flames coming off of Mark's body touch me, but not burn me. I held my hand there until it hurt too much, when I curled it into a fist and slowly pulled away. He could not hurt me anymore. At the same time he couldn't comfort me, either.

While I was sitting there I envisioned him coming to life, strangling me with his burning hands. This vision made me scream, made me fall back and land in a ring of fire. My pants caught, and I managed to smack the flames away before they hurt me. I screamed, stared at Mark's body once I realized it wasn't happening. I was just losing it, freaking out. I stared at him some more, stared at the hair that was burning, the clothes, the skin and the tattoos. 

I'd like to hope that he always knew how much…part of me loved him. I mean I guess this raw side of me loved him in a way, either that or it was just some sign of desperation. Wanting a savior and loving someone are different, I guess. Even if he says that person on the inside always hated him, I'm sure he could've sensed that _I_ loved him. He needs to know, I don't know what I'd do if…

It hits me now and then when I think about it, makes me shake, makes my heart pound. I killed him. _I killed him_. It's almost too much to bear, but I know that I shouldn't regret it. He deserved it. Amber deserved it, so did my daughter, so did my son.

Amber saved me. I look back and I do not regret knowing her, or loving her. I also don't regret learning the truth about what happened, as much as it contradicts itself. My thoughts are that I only wanted her dead because I loved her, because I was so scared that she'd end up leaving me anyway, like everyone else has. So it was a…tiny bit beneficial to me that if she had to go at all she went the way she did. Better that she was murdered than to have her leave me or cheat on me or break my heart some way while she was still alive. Better that she died in 2001 rather than waiting until we'd known each other for ten or twenty years. If we'd known each other for a long time, had more than just Claudette and Armand in our family with us, it would've been…much harder.

Harder! Hah, who am I kidding? By "harder" I mean that I would never have lasted this long without her.

So I never hated her, I never wanted to hurt her, if anything those feelings are geared towards myself. It was a defense mechanism, I just didn't want to get screwed over again. So…I screwed over _myself_ to spare the added pain. Amber, Claudette, Armand, were just casualties but honestly it wasn't their fault. I can't stress that enough. If they were still around I think that everyone reading would know by now that I'd never hurt any of them.

"_Alas…how terrible is wisdom when it brings no profit to the wise, Johnny?_"

This whole situation just sucks. The past few days I've just been thinking about it, pausing from writing for a few minutes here and there to just lean back and _think_ about it. It honestly reminds me of _Angel Heart_, which I keep thinking of, seeing Mickey Rourke's pale, horror-stricken face, hearing him screaming:

"I KNOW WHO I AM!!!"

It's funny how all that entertainment and media just kind of forms a scaffolding around your life. That's how things work now, in the past…what? I guess like most of the twentieth century. Not my childhood so much (for obvious reasons) but my adult life has been decorated by music and movies, like a companion. It's crazy the way I've been thinking about all these actors and lines and colour schemes as if they were all a part of me, which they are sometimes. Is that my version of having my life flash before my eyes?

God…I don't know what I'm talking about. I suppose I'm just stalling because I'm nervous, or something. Fuck if I know. But haven't we already established that I'm helpless and confused?

I'm just repeating myself, I know, I know. If you're reading this for…leisure or something I'm most likely boring you. 

But can you blame me?

More lines break into my memory. How about the girl Angela in Silent Hill Two? Slowly walking up a burning flight of stairs, James going "It's hot as hell in here…" then Angela says: "You see it, too? For me…it's always like this…" then makes her ascent. 

Anyway…I'm just wasting time, my time, your time. How about I cut to the chase?

After I left Mark's house for the second time, I drove to the airport, acted like nothing was wrong and was able to get on a plane to Indianapolis with little trouble. I bought a few notebooks in the airport, also a couple pens, and the whole way there I wrote. I wrote things as I remembered them, starting the night all this shit started, the night I met her. Exactly four years ago.

I had one of the notebooks filled by the time the ride was over, and got back to the apartment before I wrote more. I wrote and wrote and wrote…by the next day I'd already had three filled up, then went out to get some more. To tell the truth my hand hurts like a bitch.

On breaks from that, when my hand absolutely needed a break (reminded me of the days wrestling, doing autograph sessions), I would just walk around the apartment, touch her things, think about everything. Then I would just go sit back down on the floor in front of the coffee table or in a chair at the kitchen table, lying down on my stomach on the bed, writing there…wherever time took me. Everything else faded as I just went back in my head, described everything exactly how I remembered it, all the happiness, all the sadness, all the anger. Nothing mattered, not the hunger, not the tiredness, nothing. I just wrote, and wrote and wrote and wrote. 

This is my tribute, this is my legacy. This is the word that should be spread so that everyone can see what a queen Amber really was, and what a goddess. This is so that people understand this time, don't sit around in a hospital around my comatose body wondering why it all happened. 

When I tried to kill myself the first few times, when I was younger, I never wrote notes. When I tried to kill myself in May I scribbled one at the last second and they weren't even my words, they were just some song lyrics chosen because Saphrin would understand. But my audience is not just Saphrin, is it? More like Saphrin, Raven, Mike, Vince, whoever finds these books, whoever cares. Maybe Amber, Mark, my mother. This is my proof of life, this is my proof of pain and of regret. I was happy once and I tried to get it across the best that I could. I tried to portray the way I felt, and the way I feel now.

If I am Odin, maybe then Amber is Freya. Myths are created from human nature, it's all opinion and belief whether or not they're real. But scientifically and all, saying that none of that shit could happen, they would only be stories made up based on human nature, right? Human nature that means a man can have more than one quality, and a completely different one on the other side, yet still be the same man. These are the complexities that make up human nature. War and death, poetry and wisdom. They are quite different in the normal eye, wisdom and poetry being something refined, beautiful, then there's death, war…what can be said about those?

So one side of me does nothing but worship Amber, the other side is just…

Anyway. My purpose in writing is just to convey how perfect she was, and always will be. That's all I want to do.

I'm freezing my ass off, too.

I've come this far for her. I'd say that I wouldn't be alive if I'd never met her, but I know it's not true. I only know that things wouldn't be right, as they were when she was around. I was never lying when I told her that I couldn't live without her.

So what more is there to say, really?

When was it? Three, four? Sometime in the mid-afternoon I put on a jacket, got some things together (including the metal box) and came down here. It's not snowing out but there's some snow on the ground. It's frozen, I keep looking up at the huge shed on the other side of the property and know that they store caskets in there because the ground is too hard to penetrate. I think I had this thought last year when they were going to bury her, said that I was kind of lucky. I guess that's right, even if I don't want to admit it.

So anyway…my conclusion to all of this is that my life has meant nothing, that I finally thought it was going the right way and it turns out it was all just a big lie. I'm not going to deal with that. The truth? I'm mortified at the thought that this has been going on the whole time, even if Mark and Paul were the only people who ever really knew about it. It's embarrassing, it hurts, I hate them for it. It's strange to feel that way, it's almost the same feeling I got when I admitted that I had to trust Mark. Because I didn't really want to. It's like…there was always this feeling that sucked gravity away, made me feel weightless and lost when I remembered that I  actually _trusted_ someone, which made me feel like my life was not in my own hands. In fact it was, and…well you know. I'm not going to get into it anymore. But my conclusion is that none of this has ever mattered, and I have no reason to deal with this bullshit anymore.

This brings me here, now. 

The date is February 14th, 2002. Amber, Claudette, and my unborn son have been dead for a year, and I am sitting on the ground, freezing, wet from the thin layer of snow on the ground that I'm sitting in. I fucking hate snow.

Roman is still there, covered in snow, it's companion the skeletal branches of the lilac bush. It's funny that I can still smell it. And I can smell cigarettes, I don't know why. Maybe I'm so cold that I'm just hallucinating or something like that. How am I ever going to know?

There is some hope in me, way in the back, this tiny tiny bit of warmth that thinks maybe I will get answers. Maybe I'll understand what all of this meant, maybe I'll finally find out who that woman in my dream was. She was smoking cigarettes, right? Maybe this all means something and I just don't know it.

The questions all torture me, as does the fear, as does this numbing feeling I get from being here, from being so cold. I know it's damaging but none of that will matter, the same way I know that all these questions will stop bothering me very shortly.

So here's what I have to say- I meant everything that's been written this past few days, in these notebooks. The notebooks are all in a backpack beside me, the covers properly labeled "Part I", "Part II", "Part III", etcetera, in chronological order. 

This book is Part VIII, and I'm almost out of pages, so…I think it's time we part.

If you're reading this, I just want to apologize. For any damage done, for any pain caused, but if you've gotten this far you know why and I can't try to explain that any further.

Just know that I did not spend four days writing, telling, explaining, for my own entertainment, nor did I do it for yours. I did not write to amuse anyone or to make anyone cry, though I'm sure people might when they read it. I do not write out of vanity or as some grab at attention because it's too late for that, and if you're reading you know it.

I just didn't want to leave out any details this time around.

The truth?

It's just my epic suicide note.


End file.
